The Lessons, Meanings and Outcomes of the Holocaust

Review of chapter 19: “The Holocaust documentary: Sense, meaning, and redemptive politics” by Author: Brad Prager. Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics, ed. by Yannis Tzioumakis and Claire Molloy

by Nikol Levitin

What we now refer to as the Holocaust, was an attempt by the Nazi regime in the 20^th century to wipe out the Jewish population. The world was unaware of the atrocities happing in Nazi Germany at the time, as they hid their actions by deceiving the public and hiding the living conditions of concentration camps and ghettos. When the world learned of the horrors occurring in concentration camps and the Holocaust came to an end in 1945, filmmakers used the power of film to bring awareness to the Holocaust, so we can learn from the past, avoid recurrences in the present and remember for future generations to come. The article “The Holocaust documentary: Sense, meaning, and redemptive politics”  written by Brad Prager (German and Russian Studies, 2016) a professor of German and Film Studies at the University of Missouri, uses critiques of different films and writings to give meaning to the atrocities and analyze the correlation between the holocausts and the creation of Israel.

Prager begins by comparing and contrasting Spielberg’s film Schindler’s List, with Lanzmann’s Shoah. The film Schindler's List ends with a Zionist conclusion that shifts its attention to the founding of Israel in 1948. The films ending shows the Jews unsure of where to go after being liberated, and with one swift gesture a soldier points them to the direction of Palestine without directly referencing it. The article then quotes historian Omer Bartov who stated that Schindler's List is a film meant to bring “sense and meaning to an event which its victims had neither” (Prager, 2016, p. 243). We now switch over to analyzing Lanzmann’s film, whose views on the Holocaust were quite different than Spielberg’s. The Shoah made a point to stay away from portraying a redemptive meaning from the Holocaust by not including any real footage taken from that time. The Shoah is not your typical documentary, Lanzmann wanted to hone in and show the audience that “no representation can approach the horrific depths of the event itself” (Prager, 2016, p. 243). Lanzmann was asked to create a film about the holocausts that “takes in what happened in all its magnitude” (Prager, 2016, p. 245), by the director-general of the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Unlike Schindler's List, the Shoah does not imply that the answer to the Holocaust was the establishment of Israel. The two films had a unique approach to making sense and providing meaning to the Holocaust. Schindler's List turned the tragedy into a birth of a nation, whereas the Shoah took a more neutral approach portraying that the Holocaust did not happen for a particular reason and that the depth of such atrocities can only be grasped by those who have lived through it. Lanzmann’s view is apparent in his works, and that is that the Holocaust cannot be reduced and deducted to a single causation, or that it was necessary for the creation of Israel. 

The following film looked at in the article is a French documentary by Alain Resnais called Night and Fog. Unlike the Shoah, this film draws on the visual representation of violence to create an image in the viewers’ mind that “the buildings which all this violence was permitted now lie in pieces” (Prager, 2016, p. 247), suggesting that the structures could be quickly rebuilt at any time which implies that such horrors could reoccur. With this example, Prager was successful in showing the reader that although using a different approach than the Shoah, both films strayed away from a redemptive ending and focused more on the dangers of genocides in the future. Night and Fog, however, was heavily criticized for its position against genocides in general and failure to focus on the anti-Semitism that occurred during the Holocaust, to the extent that some may say it ‘unjewished’ the holocaust. A review in the daily newspaper Maariv stated that “the film makes an appeal for stricter morality, while presenting its own half-morality, it is painful enough to see the German ‘Nuit et Brouillard’- we do not need Resnais’s ‘fog’ as – well it’s just too much” (quoted in Lebovic, 2006: 96).  Despite this criticism, Night and Fog were shown silently in the background of the trial of Adolf Eichmann to appeal to the emotions of the court.

The article then shifts to examining an Israeli Holocaust film by the name of Forgiving Dr. Mengele to get an idea at how the people of Israel interpret the Holocaust through a film. The film Prager chose to analyze takes a unique and different approach from the previous films that we have not yet looked at. The film focuses on a Romanian Holocaust survivor by the name of Eva Kor, who believes in forgiveness for even the worst atrocities such as the Holocaust. The film was known to cause controversy and aggravation in many other survivors who did not share the same view as Kor. As the film progresses, it shifts its attention to the current Israel-Palestine conflict where Kor admits that she can forgive the Nazis for their actions “but is unwilling to warm up to Palestinians” (Prager, 2016,  p. 250). Kor then goes on to explain that forgiveness cannot happen if there are people still fighting for their lives. This film too connects the Holocaust to the current state of conflict in Israel, with a stronger political standpoint than the previous films discussed. By analyzing this film, Prager has now successfully tied up various different types of movies about the same event, with three different approaches and messages to one central theme, the creation of Israel. The main argument in the text has now been proven and backed up with over three vigorous and distinct points.  Th

e film provides reader

Prager’s article was of interest to me as I am of Jewish background, and spend most of my childhood in Israel remembering, learning and watching films about the Holocaust. Seeing as I watched most of the films mentioned in the article, I quite enjoyed reading Prager’s article and found myself agreeing with most of his points. What helped support the author's message was the use of films to back up his arguments. By using films, readers are able to watch the work being referenced to draw their own conclusions on whether they agree or disagree with the message being portrayed. Films make a piece of literature more relatable as you do not have to have the same background, same credentials or do the same research as the author to analyze and deeply examine a film, as it is accessible for everyone to view. Also, Prager’s use of quotations and opinions from survivors and historians further helped develop and support his points as the quotes added a critique often in the form of an opposing argument to the messages being portrayed in the films, giving the reader a chance to consider both points of view. The downfall of relying so heavily on films as supporting arguments is the summary that needs to be added as each new film is being introduced. Many paragraphs in the chapter were summaries of the films, and even then if the reader had not watched the film for themselves, it could be hard to follow.

At the end of the article Prager ties up all his arguments by stating “Whether such films are French, Israeli, or American, they generally find points of contact between their representation of the Holocaust and the founding of Israel. There is no denying that the two are connected” (Prager, 2016, p. 251). Prager referenced the French movie Shoa, the American movie Schnieder’s List, and various Israeli films such as Forgiving Dr. Mengele throughout his article. Each film no matter the difference in genre, style or message had one common ground, the connection between the ending of the Holocaust and the beginning of Israel as a country. The conclusion of the article strongly reinforces and connects all the arguments previously mentioned in the text. Prager’s main area of research consists of film history, Holocaust studies, and German cinema, which was evident throughout the article. The article was free of any biases by limiting opinion statements and providing more thoughts and reviews from related professionals such as Golda Meir, Israel’s fourth prime minister, and a well-known politician. Overall, the author’s message was powerfully conveyed with strong examples from various individuals that show that the Holocaust is a topic that cannot be discussed without associations to politics and the legitimacy of Israel as a state. I found my

Bibliography:

Brad Prager | German and Russian Studies. (2016). Retrieved from https://grs.missouri.edu/people/prager

“Why We Fight” as WWII Propaganda

Review of chapter 12: "Between ‘Information’ And ‘Inspiration’" by Gregory Frame. Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics, ed. by Yannis Tzioumakis and Claire Molloy 

by Joel Tomlinson

Gregory Frame’s Between Information And Inspiration does an incredible job of both summarizing and analyzing Frank Capra’s Why We Fight series of films. Why We Fight is a series of World War II propaganda films produced for the purpose of informing and inspiring American citizens and troops to contribute to the war effort. Frame’s analysis is brilliant in that it does not expect the reader to have seen Capra’s work, it being a work from the 1940s. The series accounts for this by giving a detailed description of what would be seen and heard on screen, allowing the reader to almost “watch” the film in their heads, and once this picture is painted in the mind of the reader, Frame then dives into his analysis of the particular part described.

           The structure of this chapter also makes it easy to follow. Frame dissects Capra’s work one film at a time, each time referring back to what was said in his analysis of the previous film. There are seven films in the series, which Frame not only goes through individually, but he also divides them based the intended purpose of each film. For example, the films Prelude to War, The Nazis Strike and Divide and Conquer all serve the purpose of establishing the Axis forces as a formidable and malevolent foe, as well as informing the viewer of the reasons for the war, and the events and reasons leading up to America’s involvement in the war. The Battle of Britain, The Battle of Russia and The Battle of China, on the other hand, show that, although the Axis forces are not to be underestimated, they are not invincible, and these films do that by chronicling the major losses the Axis has had to the Allied forces. Adding onto this, just as the first three films built up the Axis as a dangerous and determined enemy, these three films take time to build up the Allies as nations worth fighting alongside, and it does this by displaying them as nations with similar ideals and values, despite their cultural differences.

Moving from Frame’s analysis of the series to the series itself, as I mentioned before I had never seen this series prior to reading this analysis. Nonetheless, due to Frame’s detailed descriptions and through similar war propaganda films that I have seen, a clear picture of the Why We Fight series has been painted in my mind. It is interesting that, as Frame states, the series was intended to come across as informative and not as manipulative propaganda, especially considering we now look back at this film series and consider it American war propaganda. What the series was aiming for, nonetheless, was indeed accomplished, and at least for the duration of the war, the series was received as an informative and inspirational work. The series strived to rally the American people in a subtler way than was done during the First World War, which employed very blatantly manipulative propaganda that demonized Germans in the eyes of Americans. The only reason we now look back on Why We Fight and view it as propaganda is because, just as Why We Fight was a step subtler than WWI propaganda, today’s propaganda, namely the barrage of advertisements we are faced with on a daily basis, has become multiple steps subtler than Why We Fight ever was. Seeing the impact Why We Fight has had on the American people, one could even suggest that this series laid a lot of the groundwork for today’s advertising.

            Why is subtlety so important in propaganda though, and in what ways was Capra’s series subtler than propaganda in WWI? Expanding on what was mentioned in the previous paragraph, Capra’s series hid its manipulative elements by presenting itself as informative and inspirational, and from what I’ve read of the series, it comes across as just that. Why We Fight is indeed an informative and inspirational series, it is exactly what it advertises itself as and that is why it is difficult to see the hidden agenda that lies behind it, to move the American people to take action and participate in the war in whatever way they can. People cannot be manipulated if they know they are being manipulated, and people do not like being manipulated, that is why the best way to manipulate a population is to do it in a way so that they do not even know they are being manipulated.

            When I use words and phrases such as “manipulate” and “hidden agenda”, these words and phrases have very negative connotations, but I use them only for lack of better words, because despite my annoyance with the manipulative power of today’s advertising, I think that propaganda such as Why We Fight was necessary to ensure America’s participation in the war. I do not know enough of the history of WWII to know if American participation made the difference between Allied victory and defeat, but focusing specifically on America’s decision to participate in the war and nothing outside of that, I believe that propaganda was necessary if America was to participate in the first place. Without it, I do not believe America could be motivated enough to care for a conflict taking place on the other side of the world, or at least not enough to participate in it. This is something we see a lot even today with all of the conflict going on in the Middle East; it is not until the conflict is brought to American soil in the form of a terrorist attack that the conflict is made real to American citizens. Similarly, I do not see America leaving its comfort to participate in a war, unless that comfort is threatened in some way or another.

            Despite the success of Why We Fight in fulfilling its intended purpose, I agree with Frame’s opinion in that the series was far from perfect. Particularly in the films detailing Allied victories over Axis forces, such as The Battle of Russia and The Battle of China, Capra is selective of what he shows of the two nations, choosing only to focus on aspects of each nation that are similar or in line with American ideologies. While this selective information did aid in achieving the overall goal of the series, this is a prominent example of the manipulation still at play here, and proof that this is indeed propaganda, and not just an informative and emotional documentary. The series’ depiction of Russia, for example, neglected to mention anything of their communist government, even going so far as to call the Russians a free people. Mind you Russia’s communist government has nothing to do with the war effort, so many could argue that Capra’s choice to exclude this detail from the film is justified, but if this series was, to put things into perspective, an informative documentary with no hidden agenda behind in, then no information would be deliberately restricted from the film. The film did in fact receive criticism in the years following WWII, both for Capra’s exclusion of this information and for, as a result, painting a false picture of the Soviet Union. Needless to say, this took place during the years of great animosity between the Soviet Union and America.

The films are also culturally insensitive at points, sometimes even outright racist. The films on Britain and Russia depict each people group as little more than cultural stereotypes, which Capra calls “simplifying”. While I understand Capra’s intention, that a detailed background of each individual culture is not necessary in the light of the series as a whole, one could almost say that he was making things simple for himself and not just for the audience, by depicting each nation as their stereotypes suggest. The films do also praise each nation in light of American values, showing audiences how similar they are in values and ideals. While this can be seen as a compliment, it might not be viewed this way by these nations, because even though certain values may be shared between these countries, their ideologies are certainly not American, especially when you look at the likes of Russia and China. If these films are culturally insensitive even to America’s allies, one can only imagine the way in which the Axis nations are portrayed. Surprisingly, they are portrayed rather well; Germany is portrayed by the idea that the Germans have brainwashed slaves to the will and whim of Hitler, similarly with Italy. This is because the method of propaganda used in WWI served the purpose of demonizing the German people as a whole, using blatant racism and hate to rally its people against the enemy. America had learned from these mistakes in WWII, making an apparent effort not to inspire hatred towards the people of the enemy nations. However, Japan is portrayed similarly to Germany’s portrayal in WWI, as power hungry and practically bloodthirsty savages. Why Japan is represented this way and not in a more respectful way such as Germany and Italy, I do not know, but this goes to show that, successful though Capra’s series was, it was certainly not without its flaws.

            Overall, I believe that Capra’s Why We Fight was a brilliant, well crafted, and necessary part of the American war effort during the Second World War. The American government’s decision to employ a Hollywood director for this project was a genius one, further cementing this films connection to the people, and distancing it from a government which can be perceived as manipulative. Nonetheless, the series was not without its flaws, flaws which were frowned upon only years following the end of WWII, but as a whole, I applaud Capra’s work in the part it played in America’s war effort, and in the pioneering steps it took toward modern propaganda.    

Bibliography

Frame, G. (2016). Between ‘Information’ And ‘Inspiration’. In The Routledge Companion to

Cinema and Politics. Basingstoke: Taylor & Francis Ltd.

GasLand: How Propaganda Got its Bad Name

Review of Chapter 11: “Propaganda, Activism and Environmental Nostalgia” By Claire Molloy

Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics, ed. by Yannis Tzioumakis and Claire Molloy 

By Clark Backo

Every film, whether fiction or non-fiction, tells a story. Filmmakers use films to communicate a specific message to an audience. Being able to persuade an audience to agree with a specific idea is a loose way of defining propaganda. The Cambridge English Dictionary defines propaganda as, “information, ideas, opinions, or images, often only giving one part of an argument, that
are broadcast, published, or in some other way spread with the intention of influencing people's opinions” (Propaganda Meaning). It is widely recognized throughout both scholarly discourse and mainstream society that the term ‘propaganda’ has acquired a negative connotation. In the eleventh chapter of Tzioumakis and Molloy’s “Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics,” titled “Propaganda, Activism, and Environmental Nostalgia,” Claire Molloy accounts for the term’s pejorative nature and offers a positive account of the term through cinematic propaganda. Molloy is a professor at Edge Hill University, where she teaches ‘Film, Television and Digital Media”. She is also the director of the Centre for Human Animal Studies. Her research interests focus on film, eco-media, activism, and film and politics; making her an expert in the field of study that the chapter concerns itself. Molloy centers her argument on the implications of Josh Fox’s documentary film GasLand; a film which documents the human health and environmental consequences of fracking. Molloy uses GasLand as an example of a film which uses propaganda as a call to action through a combination of cinematic environmental nostalgia and organized distribution and campaigning (Molloy, 2016). Despite the positive action GasLand has produced, it does not account for the filmmaker’s overall disregard of facts and evidence in creating the film. Molloy argues that the film is positive cinematic propaganda, however, I would argue that the film only helps affirm the pejorative use of the term ‘propaganda’ as it ultimately misinforms its audience in order to persuade and motivate action.

Molloy begins the chapter with a brief introduction which outlines Josh Fox’s documentary film, GasLand, as the focal point and evidence of her argument. Molloy argues that GasLand was an important piece of art to bring ‘fracking’ into public conversation. The term ‘fracking’ refers to the procurement of natural oil and gas through the process of drilling into the earth and injecting a water mixture at high pressure (Molloy, 2016). In her introduction, Molloy summarizes the film’s storyline as well as her own main arguments. She breaks up the latter into four main points: the first considers the overall reaction to the oil and gas crisis through the various documentary films which were released as a direct result. The second discusses Fox’s deliberate stylized approach in his making of GasLand; focusing primarily on his effective use of environmental nostalgia. Molloy’s third point centers on Fox’s distribution and campaigning strategy as an example of the importance of raising awareness. Her final point considers the the film’s received criticisms as integral to the film’s international reach. Finally, Molloy makes the chapter’s purpose clear – to expand the associations of the term propaganda beyond the negative undertones widely attached.

Molloy’s first point provides an overarching account of the film industry’s response to the energy crisis set off by the oil and gas companies. She explains that when the National Energy Policy Development Group (NEPDG) came out with a report in 2001, which identified their 3 main concerns with the United States’ impending energy insufficiency. The mentioned National Energy Policy determined that the US would have to maintain their existing energy practices (i.e. gas and oil) because any and all alternative energies would not be able to withstand their energy needs. The primary concern for the NEPDG was that they did not want to eventually have to depend on “foreign powers” (Molloy, 2016). Molloy attributes the NEPDG’s decision to ignore alternative energies a defining political moment, which would lead to the ‘energy crisis’, an increase in oil and gas excavations, and the emergence of anti-oil and gas documentary films. It should be noted that Molloy describes the fossil fuel industry, and the politics that surround it, as money hungry and unsympathetic to the consequences of fracking on the environment and the health of fracked-communities. Although her argument is not wholly false, it does take its evidence from Fox’s accounts of the crisis in GasLand. Molloy uses the film to make her argument that there are films which employ propaganda for the “greater good” and therefore the term ‘propaganda’ should not only be discussed with the assumption that it is necessarily negative. Amongst Molloy’s expansive list of documentary films which were released as a direct response to the peak oil crisis, Molloy selects GasLand to argue her point of “positive cinematic propaganda” (Molloy, 2016). Her selection, I would argue, proves detrimental to making her point as evidence in Fox’s film is greatly lacking and does little to support his message.

Molloy continues onto her second point, which focuses on Fox’s specific style of filming and editing for GasLand. She goes in depth to describe his various techniques of persuasions. Molloy argues that Fox engaged his audience on an emotional level by combining images of delocalised landscapes, personal stories of individuals affected by fracking and his own personal stories (Molloy, 2016). Molloy also explains that Fox used evidentiary visuals, such as water being set alight, in order to display the negative effects of fracking on the environment.

According to Molloy, Fox used contrasting imagery to make his point, “landscaped with an abundance of water contrasted against unhealthy contaminated water of fracked areas” (Molloy, 2016). Molloy continues on to discuss Fox’s varying types of landscape shots. On the one hand, Fox uses moving images of natural landscapes usually through the lens of a car window and sometimes on foot – creating a natural flowing visual of a healthy environment. On the other hand, Fox employs more static visuals for the fracking landscapes. Handheld and shifting between focus and blur. Both indicative of their qualities. She also describes the different types of editing tricks he uses to further clarify his message. For instance, the way in which Fox cuts between images in order to create tension between opposing sides; close ups on the Cesapeake Subcommittee on Energy and Minerals with hard lighting, which cut back and forth between wide shots of landscapes, both fracked and natural (Molloy, 2016). Molloy also discusses Fox’s narrating style, which she describes as slow, gentle and sleepy; nostalgic. She argues that his narrating voice is deliberate and separate from the voice he uses when on the phone asking for interviews with industry experts. Furthermore, Molloy contests that Fox’s exposition of being rejected interviews is a form of persuasion in itself, “in this narrative [the refusals for interviews] give the impression that something is being purposefully withheld” (Molloy, 2016). By creating uncertainty, Fox was able to demand that his audience at least question / suspect the implications of the fracking industry. However, Fox does so without much substantiated evidence. Instead, as Molloy suggests, Fox uses environmental nostalgia to emote a reaction and action from his audience. If it were not for the empathy that GasLand demands, the film would have no legs to stand on.

Molloy further discusses the power of environmental nostalgia in GasLand as she argues that Fox has made the ‘landscape’ the real victim. According to Molloy, Fox’s use of shots of long, flowing, natural landscapes, creates nostalgia for how things used to be – before fracking. Molloy then further contests that Fox’s use of delocalised landscapes helps globalize the film, widening the film’s potential audience. As Molloy explains, “the signifiers of the authentic un- fracked landscape are highly symbolic of a timeless unidentifiable pristine nature, one that is littered with referenced to an undisclosed actual place in time and space” (Molloy, 2016). Furthermore, Molloy argues that Fox uses his childhood memories of growing up in an environment free of fracking in order to evoke a greater language of nostalgia throughout the film. She uses ides from Murray and Huemann who argue that environmental nostalgia, as seen

in Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth, can be positive if it is able to convey a sense of hope for the future. Molloy suggests that GasLand is similar to An Inconvenient Truth in that it combines the private and the public to create a sense of environmental nostalgia (Molloy, 2016). However, she argues that GasLand does not end with a message of hope but instead, offers a possibility of shared interest in the state of the country and the environment on a global level. According to Molloy, Fox ends his film with “the possibility for collective resistance” (Molloy, 2016). Following Molloy’s argument, Fox’s documentary is still a positive call for action, and therefore, a positive affirmation of cinematic propaganda.

In Malloy’s third point, she briefly describes the importance of distribution, exhibition and campaigning for activist films. More importantly, Molloy outlines the impact that successful exhibition of activist films can have in raising awareness of worthy causes and creating international support for grassroots organizations. In the case of GasLand, Molloy explains that although the film did not have a widespread theatrical distribution when it was released in January 2010 but it was able to garner ample alternative distribution deals. For instance, Fox secured a deal with HBO, which aired the film for US television in June 2010, garnering over a million US viewers. Furthermore, GasLand was released on DVD and digital platforms in December 2010 through New Video’s Docurama division. Molloy then explains that New Video was acquired by Cinedigm, an independent content distributor, which made GasLand available on Netflix in 2012 (Molloy, 2016). Once on Netflix, GasLand’s reached an international audience. Molloy further argues that distributors have a responsibility in promoting documentaries to ensure that their messages are being heard. She also points out that Fox toured alongside the international screenings of the film, participating in Q&As and campaigning the accompanying anti-fracking grassroots organizations (Molloy, 2016). Malloy argues that GasLand’s combination of formal distribution and grassroots campaigning further underlines her argument that the film serves as an example of positive propaganda as it not only raises awareness of fracking as an issue, but also creates positive action.

Finally, Molloy discusses the reception of the film amongst both critics and supporters of GasLand. Despite there being a flood of positive feedback from activists and environmental organisations, the film garnered a lot of criticism. It is of no surprise that the fracking industry heavily criticized the film but they were not the only ones. Fellow filmmakers and highly recognized newspapers, such as the Washing Post and New York Times, criticized Fox and the

film for the many inaccuracies. Critics attacked Fox based on his lack of investigative journalism – calling him an amateur who skipped necessary steps, mainly research and evidence. Molloy notes that The Independent Petroleum Association of America’s PR operation, Energy In Depth, released a document called Debunking GasLand, outlining their concerns about the film and ultimately discrediting Fox’s authority. Nonetheless, Molloy argues that all the criticism surrounding Fox and the film actually helped to promote GasLand, furthering its reach by creating intrigue (Molloy, 2016). However, Molloy seems to have fallen into the same trap that had critics questioning Fox’s credentials as a documentary filmmaker and investigate journalism. In Molloy’s unwavering support of GasLand, she avoids going into detail about the accuracy of the accusations against Fox. It does not seem like Molloy did enough research into the claims against the film’s factual inaccuracies, or as Fox did, she chose to withhold the information. A quick google search of Josh Fox and GasLand gives way to article after article questioning Fox’s lack of evidence and discrediting the film altogether. For instance, one journalist discovered that people were able to light their water on fire before fracking ever even started, as early as 1936. When the journalist questioned Fox at one of the film’s screenings, asking him why he left out that information, Fox admitted that he already knew this information but that the information was irrelevant (Watts, 2011). Clearly, Fox deliberately left out information and evidence in order to create a simple storyline to benefit his message.

In conclusion, Molloy does not account for the fact that documentary film, just like fiction film, still carries a bias. Documentary films are told from the perspective of a filmmaker and therefore, the message of a non-fiction film does rely on a filmmaker’s opinion as the focal point to which a message is told. No matter how small the bias, it is still there. Molloy’s argument for positive cinematic propaganda is persuasive and alluring, however, the use of a different example would have strengthened her argument. I agree that documentary films, and even fiction films, have the power to inspire action amongst audiences but with that power comes responsibility. Molloy describes Fox’s ability to globalize the film through delocalised landscapes, using environmental nostalgia, as a positive, however, it also ignores the fact that fracking laws are different outside of America. Fox uses his film as a call to action toward an unspecific audience, but the fracking he is describing is specific to the US. Josh Fox did not do his due-diligence to accurately inform his audience. He made his audience aware of what he wanted them to know and ignored any evidence to the contrary. Therefore, GasLand could and should be considered an explanation of how the term ‘propaganda’ developed a pejorative connotation. 

Bibliography
Molloy, C. (2016). "Propaganda, Activism and Environmental Nostalgia." In Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics. London: Routledge.
Propaganda Meaning. (n.d.). Retrieved March 13, 2017, from http://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/propaganda
Watts, A. (2011, June 04). The Gasland Movie: A Fracking Shame. Retrieved March 15, 2017, from https://wattsupwiththat.com/2011/06/04/the-gasland-movie-a-fracking- shame-director-pulls-video-to-hide-inconvenient-truths/

The Successes and Pitfalls of a Video Campaign

Review of Chapter 10 "KONY 2012 Anatomy of a Campaign Video and a Video Campaign," Leshu Torchin.
Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics, ed. by Yannis Tzioumakis and Claire Molloy

By Chiara Lucchetta

A crucial part of the film process has always been promotion and distribution: determining what platforms to advertise on and how to invite an audience’s attention over to a film. Along with ensuring a film’s content will capture and hold its audience’s attention, the film industry must be clever with how it can make its films widely and publicly known. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that in a rapidly expanding digital world, the film industry has latched onto social media platforms as gateways into the public’s homes. Social media has become a powerful tool in the world of film, and even more instrumental to the merging of film and politics. Whereas, before, politicians made videos to aid in their campaigns, there are now campaigns built on films. These video campaigns spread fast and far, going viral online and trending worldwide. One of the most notable video campaigns of our time is Kony 2012.

The Kony 2012 campaign started with an experimental video, produced by Invisible Children (IC) and directed by Jason Russell, the founder of the Invisible Children organization. This campaign video was meant to expose the crimes of Joseph Kony, the leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), in Uganda, and incite people to take action – two goals that are controversially viewed as being successfully met. However, what was clearly viewed as a success of Kony 2012 was how quickly and vigorously the video campaign spread. The components that went into the broadcasting nature of this advocacy film campaign are discussed in the article “KONY 2012 Anatomy of a Campaign Video and a Video Campaign”, written by Leshu Torchin. However, while Torchin’s analysis of Kony 2012 examines the role of the advocacy film within the context of online media, it does not take a definitive stance on the moral successes or pitfalls of such a video.

Where one can look at the Kony 2012 initiative arguing either side, Torchin (2016) instead chooses a reflective viewpoint, encouraging the campaign to be regarded as a learning experience, which “offers an occasion for thinking about the benefits and limitations of video advocacy as it moves online” (p. 123). Torchin begins with this thesis that Kony 2012 prompts us to thoroughly consider how the evolving online world will change how we think about, and go about, curating, promoting, and distributing advocacy videos. As Torchin launches into the article with data about the life of Kony 2012, the changing relationship between film and online media, which the reader has been called to consider, becomes apparent.

To better understand the context of the campaign, Torchin delves into the teleology of IC and how and why Kony 2012 came to be. It is important to note that IC is no stranger to video activism (Torchin, 2016, p. 123). Founded in 2004, with the goal of shedding light on the use and abuse of child soldiers by the IRA, IC produced a number of documentaries before Kony 2012  (Torchin, 2016, p. 123) Therefore, when IC entered into the Stop Kony project, the organization already had a strong idea of the power and impact films could have on a public, online platform, and definitely the potential of ‘clicktivism’. Torchin (2016) briefly confronts this concept of clicktivism in relation to IC’s strong belief in the leverage of social media, suggesting that critics of this activism tool underestimate it (p. 124). Clicktivism, as described by Mark A. Drumbl (2012) in his article “Child Soldiers and Clicktivism: Justice Myths and Prevention”, is when organizations use social media to advocate for a cause and get people involved (p. 481). Drumbl (2012), whom Torchin references in her article, debunks clicktivism, and by direct association the Kony 2012 campaign, for having “short attention spans and limited shelf life” (p. 484). That is to say that they hold no real influence in the long run, which is an interesting opinion to consider when examining the outcomes of the Kony 2012 initiative. However, the content of the video and what went into making it must be understood first before one can look at its aftereffects.

Providing scene-by-scene descriptions of the video, Torchin does an excellent job of breaking down the film’s plot line and the meanings behind its composition. Kony 2012 is narrated by activist Jason Russell, who also takes on the role of the film’s lead. The campaign video is composed of shots of Russell explaining the crisis in Uganda to his five-year-old son, Gavin, revealing the story of turmoil of his Ugandan friend Jacob, and outlining ways people can take action, such as through “Cover the Night”, a night devoted to posting up pictures of Kony. Throughout the film, there is a persistent, underlying theme, which praises social media. As Torchin (2016) states, “These [social media] platforms…can function to articulate the relationship of the user to the world, and of the humanitarian to the person in need” (p.130). Torchin (2016) even lays out the history of sites like Youtube and Citizen Tube popping up as channels to be used to advocate for causes (p. 124-125). This motif that social media can connect the world, further leading to change, seen in the recurring graphics of social media sites in Kony 2012, is the framework through which Torchin analyzes the film.

Torchin (2016) points out that there is this conviction driving Kony 2012 that exposure to an issue will lead to awareness, which will ultimately lead to a response of action (p. 124). And so, Kony 2012 mirrors something of a publicity campaign; “as Russel explains in voiceover, the goal is to make Kony ‘famous’, a process that will lead to his capture” (Torchin, 2016, p. 124). This conviction is carried on throughout the video, as seen when the audience is told in order to help, they must share the video with their friends by the means of social media.  As Torchin  (2016) explains, targeted towards the very specific audience of modern, progressive young adults and students, the film prospered in this respect, receiving 112 million views in just 6 days (p. 123). However profitable a response the video received though, Torchin (2016) also makes it clear that, unlike the film’s structure suggests, there is not a direct correlation between engaging in social media posting and democratic change (p.127).

This is a recurring point made in Torchin’s article. As Kony 2012 displays seamless scenes of the engagement in social media leading to Kony’s capture, the audience is guided to believe that it can be this easy (Torchin, 2012, p. 126). Furthermore, this contributes to a larger source of criticism regarding the film, and that is oversimplification. Torchin (2016) calls attention to these questionable film techniques in passing, saying that in explaining the issue in simplest terms and by placing the audience on the intellectual level of a five-year-old boy, the issue wrongfully turns into “a ready-to-comprehend battle of good versus evil” (p. 127). Torchin then continues on to also present preexisting criticisms surrounding the film for its underrepresentation. Not only does the film misconstrue the issue in Uganda for its audience through simplification, but also through its lack of voice from Ugandan politicians, activists, and citizens, (Torchin, 2016, p, 127). Nonetheless, Torchin (2012) passes over these judgments, saying these film choices follow with IC’s campaign strategy and actually aid in its progress as they support the American image of the “White Saviour” complex (p. 126).  Thus, moving on, Torchin again looks at the role of social media in an online video campaign. Torchin (2016) admits that the video was ineffective in getting people involved in actual, practical initiatives, however, says this does not weaken the potential of social media campaigns, but “raises questions of how activists negotiate the speed and reach of these new media, particularly when assessing the timeline of a campaign” (p. 129). Finally, Torchin (2016) concludes the article by reaffirming her view that Kony 2012 teaches us how film and social media can work together to promote activism (p. 131).

By the end of this article, Torchin both presents praise for Kony 2012 for showing the potential reach a video/social media campaign can hold and presents critiques over the content of the video. Unfortunately, scrutiny of what was displayed in Kony 2012 (and how it was displayed) is overshadowed by Torchin’s breakdown of how the video approached the world of online campaigning both on and off the screen. In her article, Torchin focuses more on learning from Kony 2012 how to use and connect an online video campaign with practical action than on the ramifications of the film’s makeup. In her conclusion, Torchin (2016) “prompts us to ask how one can engage an audience without resorting to excessive oversimplification, or narcissism of pity that engages politics of victimization and occludes local agency and voice” (p. 131); yet, fails to start this conversation herself in the article. I believe these ethical dilemmas, which the video raises, as well as the consequences of the video campaign’s more controversial film techniques, could have been explored more thoroughly. I agree that as a campaign video, Kony 2012 broke boundaries with the amount of attention and passion it spurred. I also think the emphasis Torchin places on studying Kony 2012 as not just a video, but a movement, is important to understanding it since “video and publicity function as components of a larger campaign” (Torchin, 2016, p. 124). However, the negative features of the film are ones that could have had a dangerous impact on Western political culture, and therefore needed to be delved into more deeply. Kony 2012 did a good job of capturing its target audience’s attention, but in doing so, it also fed into Western political ideals that place America as the centre of the world. Or, as Torchin (2016) recognizes, but does not address, “maintains power and agency in the body of white men” (p. 126).

We have learned in this class that films can shape how we think about the world and ourselves. Therefore, it is important to pay attention to what a film is telling us. Kony 2012 may have begun with sincere intentions to advocate for the rights of children in Uganda. Somewhere along trying to spark excitement in its audience though, the subject of the video (victims in Uganda) became lost. Kony 2012 became less focused on revealing an issue and more focused on placing Western civilization on a pedestal. This issue is one Torchin (2016) recognizes in her article when she talks about the victims in Kony 2012 becoming obscured by the Hollywood dynamics of the video and the “dramatic arc of activism” (p. 127). What Torchin does not do though is talk about the repercussions of this. It seems to me that in attempting to prove that Kony 2012 acts as a lesson on how to use film and social media as accompaniment for activism, some of the more problematic parts of the video are overlooked in the article. As discussed before, Torchin (2016) regards the lack of African representation in the film as a strategic ploy to hook young activists by confirming the meliorism to which they feel a responsibility to (p. 126). I agree that this probably had a hand in why the video did resonate so well with students, gaining a profitable following. However, I think the article should have been more critical of the implications that come with feeding into this preexisting belief, even if it is for a good cause.

When defining IC’s social media campaign plan, Torchin compares it to the approach of the human rights organization WITNESS, who also use film and online communities as activism tools. All through her article, Torchin calls attention to how Kony 2012 applies video advocacy methods integral to WITNESS’ mission statement. According to the article “Juggling Advocacy, Audience and Agency When Using #Video4Change”, by Sam Gregory (2012), the program director of WITNESS, this statement includes the principles that videos “should be audience oriented and provide a clear space for action” and “should be part of a campaign, complementing other forms of activism” (par. 4). Torchin uses this comparison to strengthen her conviction that Kony 2012 stands as an example of how and what an online video campaign should look like. Nontheless, if you look more closely into the doctrines WITNESS stands by, you can see that Kony 2012 fell short of living up to the same ethical standards.

 Gregory addresses where Kony 2012 went wrong in exercising these advocacy tools in his article. For one, I noticed the video’s oversimplified narrative ends up misrepresenting the victims. Gregory (2012) characterizes storytelling as being too simple “when it perpetuates stereotypes” (When Does Storytelling for an Audience Make Simple Too Simple, par. 5) , and this is what Kony 2012 does. As we have seen, Torchin does touch on this exhausted dichotomy of the suffering, vulnerable African and self-assuring White man evident in Kony 2012; however, she does not respond to how asserting this stereotype contributes to us viewing Africa as inferior to us. Another complication that I noticed with the narrative is its runtime. Torchin (2016) claims “The video’s runtime allows for a lot of information and the development of a clear narrative”, as the video has a runtime of 30 minutes, compared to the typical 30 seconds used for advocacy advertisements (p.124). Looking back at the film conventions used by WITNESS, this runtime appears to be an advantage since it provides IC with room to develop an engaging storyline for its audience. Be that as it may, the video’s length suggests it is something that it is not. Because Kony 2012 is long enough to establish a narrative, it fools its audience into thinking it is a documentary about the crimes of the LRA, when there are few accurate facts about this subject included. Again, Torchin confronts this criticism in her article by then turning it around to be regarded as productive discourse. According to Torchin (2016), these mistakes lead to constructive feedback, such as in the form of “Uganda Speaks” and the ‘#AskIcAnything’ initiative (p. 130). “Uganda Speaks” was an online platform where Ugandan voices could join in the conversation about the issue and contribute facts about their experiences; whereas, IC opened themselves up to questions and criticism online using ‘#AskIcAnything’ (Torchin, 2016, p. 130-131). Similar to Torchin, I see how these responses to the criticism IC and Kony 2012 received resulted in more constructive and transparent exchanges over the conflict in Uganda. However, I would have rather the article explore where the video went wrong and how future online campaign videos can practice better ethics than on how to correct the matter after the fact.

Finally, the greatest weakness I found with this article was the absence of evidence for Torchin’s most repeated conviction, which is that you can learn how to use online video to complement real-life action for change from Kony 2012. As both Torchin and Gregory reiterate, an online advocacy video is only effective when working as part of an off-screen campaign (Torchin, 2016, p. 131). Kony 2012 did institute other activist events, such as “Cover the Night” and encouraging people to bring the issue to the eyes of influential figures in politics and pop culture on Twitter. Yet, these off-screen activities did not see much movement. Torchin (2016) does not see this as a failure of the video, but rather the result of its success as it spread fast immediately instead of gradually increasing attraction leading up to “Cover the Night” (p. 129). I think it is interesting to return back to the concept of clicktivism here though, and consider if the reason for this failure is that the instantaneous, fleeting nature of viral videos does not allow for longer, sustained interest. Based on the way the video was dramatized to seduce and persuade, which Torchin discusses, it is not far off to think that people adopted Kony 2012 as a trend instead of a serious issue, causing the short turnout for “Cover the Night.”

With this article, Torchin gives the reader much to think about concerning Kony 2012. It is for this reason, however, that I think there were areas that could have been scrutinized more. Torchin expertly paints a picture of what a successful video campaign can look like using Kony 2012 as a learning example, but it is within this example that there are gaps. In this article, Torchin brings forward criticisms of the video that can be used to create conversation over how to craft video campaigns to circulate as much attention as Kony 2012, but under more ethical pretenses. Thus, I left this article asking myself the same question, but also wishing Torchin would have given her own input on how to best approach film in a developing online world.

References

Drumbl, M.A. (2012). Child soldiers and clicktivism: Justice, myths, and prevention. Journal of Human Rights Practice. Vol. 4. Retrieved from http://works.bepress.com/mark_drumbl/77/

Gregory, S. (2012, March 17). Kony 2012: Juggling advocacy, audience and agency when using #video4change. Retrieved from https://blog.witness.org/2012/03/kony-2012-juggling-advocacy-audience-and-agency-when-using-video4change/  

Torchin, L. (2016). KONY 2012 - Anatomy of a campaign video and a video campaign. In Y. Tzioumakis, & C. Molloy (Eds.), Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics. (pp. 123-134). Routledge.