September 02, 2005
There were reports on NPR this afternoon from the New Orleans convention center; of the two thousand survivors huddled within it, and the bodies and waste that were accumulating around them. A ten year old girl had been raped there the night before, it was said.
When I heard that last awful fact, I felt a sense of deja vu; and then almost immediately recalled Michael Haneke's Le Temps Du Loup. There was scarcely a drop of water in that film, and yet it was entirely about what has happened in New Orleans; in very specific details, yes, but more importantly in its portrayal of the way in which extreme circumstance gives rise to both the best and worst human nature has to offer. Just as there was no explanation for the events in that film, I think the flooding is merely circumstantial disaster; the deeper, more prevalent tragedy is the lack of unity in overcoming it.
The responses I've read to the hurricane and its aftermath are varied - consider Kat's simple lament or Matt's comparative analysis or Yen's suggestion to donate - and they're all sincere and legitimate; they're also largely based on newspapers, television reports, radio, and (primarily) the internet, and they're all, in that sense, reactionary. I have my own reactions too, of course; you read some of them in the paragraph above. Reactions are all anyone has, unless they're already in the heart of the storm.
But on that note: I also have my memories of this film suddenly coming back in force, and providing me with what I feel is an understanding, on a more personal level, that is not afforded by general news coverage. There will eventually be more in depth stories, and documentaries, and probably films about this; but right now, there's this film, and others like it. They certainly could never be considered preparative in any way but, in the heat of the moment, is can be comforting to reflect on them. This is one of the great things that art is able to do: facilitate, through interpretation, a greater sense of comprehension. Cinema, with its offer of immediate vicarious association, is in an especially unique position to do this. This is something that has always been known; but every now and then, it's good to discover these reminders that film - and all art, all expression - does not become trivial in the face of real tragedy.
And just as it facilitates empathy, art can alleviate distress, and create hope in the face of insurmountable odds: while the conclusion of Le Temps Du Loup is a vague one, I like to think that my interpretation of it is as representative of human nature as the more specific parts of the film have horribly proven to be. As I wrote after first seeing it last year: This is the work of someone who believes that there is an essential goodness to people, and despite all the despair he evokes in these landscapes of death and flames, he shows us at the end a vision of simple, almost heartbreaking optimism and warmth.
Posted by David Lowery at September 2, 2005 02:17 AM