Re: Leave Wes Anderson alone
by
lilabelle
09/27/2007, 5:33 PM #
You’re right, as a single work, you do have to judge the movie artistically. As I said above, I think it’s artistically lazy to treat any character, no matter what race (this point did not come across in my above post), as a mere prop. OK, a storyteller doesn’t have to go around giving us nuance and back-story on everyone the protagonist passes on the train. But the guy whose death indelibly changes the lives of our protagonists? In a good story, we know more about that guy than his race and the fact that his family is sad that he is dead.
But I think what the author of the piece, and maybe Obscura, are getting at here is that there seem to be rather a lot of movies that do this to their non-white characters, and a few of them (though by NO means all) are Wes Anderson movies.
There was a piece awhile back, in the AV Club, I think, which poked some good fun at the “Magical Black Man” phenomenon; from Uncle Remus to that guy in The Green Mile, moviemakers have long been writing black (and lately, other non-white) characters with no other motivation or purpose than to help their white friends along to romance, self-realization, or golf championships. The most brilliant jab at the magically helpful non-white person character in my opinion is the Donna Chang(stein) episode of Seinfeld, wherein George’s mom is perfectly willing to follow the marital advice of Jerry’s new girlfriend, Donna, until she finds out that Donna is not Chinese, and thus has no access to that special Confucian wisdom.
What is kind of extra-creepy in the movie described is that the Indian brother doesn’t just live for his white protagonists—he dies for them. If, in the end, it’s all levity and humor, why is someone dead? Again, there is a completely non-racial but still objectionable component to this. I hate when movies kill or otherwise harm children just to make us sad; it’s manipulative and disingenuous when the only thing you know is that, gasp(!) there’s a child in danger. BE SAD. So I would be similarly annoyed if Anderson had used this plot device with kids of the same ethnicity as his protagonists.
But that begs a further question: why is this movie set in India, anyway? If Anderson is at his most comfortable in upper-class white-land, why go to India in the first place? Couldn’t these brothers have failed to save that kid anywhere? Or is there something special about Indian death or Third World grief that makes it the ideal backdrop for First World self-realization? My instinct is that there isn’t. But my experience has been that a lot of people think that gawking at the plight of the Third World (or the Subaltern, or the Global South, or whatever you want to call it) is somehow especially edifying and enriching for rich white people. After which they can ride off into the sunset, better people for having cried into the dirt.
Not that I think there’s anything wrong with using foreign lands as spectacular backdrops for the escapades of Americans or white people or anyone else. (See: the English Patient, Casablanca, Empire of the Sun.) The line is when you start treating the actual human beings that way. It’s one thing to have your characters romp around an exotic locale, eating weird food, interacting with unfamiliar institutions, and experiencing both glee and poignancy in a voyeuristic, what-does-this-mean-for-me kind of way. It’s another when they experience the death of a fellow human being that way.
So to summarize:
treating structurally important characters as props = bad storytelling;
treating all of your non-white characters as props = bad storytelling and indicative of a disturbing trend;
treating your non-white characters’ death and grief as props for a movie that is essentially supposed to be light and funny = bad storytelling and borderline creepy.