|
Produced and directed by
Ross Kauffman and Zana Briski; in English and Bengali, with English
subtitles; directors of photography, Mr. Kauffman and Ms. Briski; edited
by Nancy Baker and Mr. Kauffman; released by ThinkFilm and HBO/Cinemax
Documentary Films.
85 minutes.
Not rated.
Documentaries are often labeled as “boring,” “methodical,” and worse,
“educational.” But thanks to the work of filmmakers Zana Briski and Ross
Kauffman, Born Into Brothels is a lively, suspenseful, even joyous
experience.
Not many movies can plausibly suggest they will “change your life,”
but Brothels might do just that. As bright as a box of new crayons,
and just as full of creative potential, the children in Brothels give
us vibrant pictures of hope in the midst of oppression. This movie
joins a surge of recent works that are winning reality-cinema an
enthusiastic new audience through creativity and innovation.
Here’s a scene: We’re in the Red Light district of Calcutta. Our
vantage point is a documentarian’s camera in a filthy building where
prostitutes live and work, sacrificing their bodies for money so they
can feed theirmothers (retired prostitutes) and their children
(prostitutes-in-training). The kids cower in the corners and watch,
wide-eyed, as this cruel cultural cycle plays out before them. Men,
poisoned by drugs and alcohol, lurk in the streets like zombies. Women
in vibrant clothing preen and strut and compete for their attention. In
the middle of this, a prostitute pauses to wash her son’s hair, and
becomes entangled in a vocal, expletive-laced debate with another woman
over which of them is more depraved and wicked. Momentary concern
flickers in the children’s eyes, but they don’t run or cry. They’ve seen
this before.
It’s difficult to believe that this is what a whole community
considers “normal.”
In Born Into Brothels, which won Best Documentary Feature in the
2005 Academy Awards, Briski and Kauff man guide us, like Virgil
educating the horrified Dante, down into an abyss of poverty and
depravity. Briski went to Calcutta to photograph the harsh realities
suffered by the women there: female infanticide, sexual abuse, child
marriage, dowry deaths, widowhood. But after spending years with the
children of the brothels, she realized, “I wanted to do something for
them.” She put down her own camera, gave point-and-shoot cameras to the
kids, and began a weekly workshop.
We watch as remarkable things begin to take place. Turned loose with
their cameras, on the streets or behind closed doors, the children grow
in confi dence, creativity, and personality, expressing themselves with
dazzling, revelatory images. Some prove to have extraordinary talents.
We’re treated to an exhibition: zoo animals, friends playing on the
beach, tormented addicts, unexpected details on the floors and the
streets, blurred activity captured through car windows, secrets and
wounds and fleeting joys reflected in the faces of other children.
Brothels documents Briski’s and Kauffman’s increasing passion as
they seek escape routes for their students. They appeal to boarding
schools that usually reject the children of criminals. They fight for
birth certificates and ration cards. They nervously await the results of
boys’ and girls’ HIV tests.
This may sound like an unpleasant way to spend two hours. But the
overall effect of the f lm is quite different. Seeing the world through
the lenses of young eyes, we are blessed by how they see. Moreover,
Briski and Kauff man take us above and beyond the standard lecture about
need and hope. The idea is this: When you actually encounter these
children face to face, spend time with them, learn their names and their
voices, see them laughing, and discover their creative potential, your
perspective will be changed. When you see two Westerners walk in and
make a tremendous difference to one, two, three, and more children, you
may feel a tug at your own conscience. And when you learn, in the
closing moments, where these children are today, your heart may well
break open.
There are several other recent documentaries of similar value as
well. Mirroring Briski’s social conscience, a drama teacher named
Catherine Borek strives to ignite ambition and courage in a group of
apathetic, cynical students in OT: Our Town, available on DVD.
Filmmaker Scott Hamilton gives us a chronicle of high school students in
Compton, California, as they attempt to mount their first live theatre
production in 20 years — a contemporary take on Thornton Wilder’s Our
Town. Borek’s dedication to inspire creative discovery and racial
reconciliation in a community where gunshots and race riots are daily
realities is a testament to the power of art, “tough love,” and
courageous teachers.
Also worth renting are Bus 174, Super Size Me,
The Story of the
Weeping Camel, Hoop Dreams,
The Fog of War, and perhaps the most powerful and
extraordinary of all: an overlooked heartbreaker about children in
foster care simply titled Stevie.
|