Back to Film Diary

On Propaganda

Propaganda is something I've been wrestling with for some time, esp. since I've been exploring the history of Chinese cinema, where propagandistic elements have run rampant pretty much since its inception. I have come to love these films, but the propagandistic nature of much Chinese filmmaking has led me to reconsider my initial disdain of such elements in these films I love.

One thing to do is to understand the propagandistic elements in their proper context. It's not just because China is a Communist country and all Communist countries employ propaganda in their films; that's too sweeping of an assumption to make. The reasons are manifold, but one to consider is that China's periodic instability gave a sense of urgency on the part of the filmmakers to provide a vision of clarity, to enlighten and improve the masses. Hollywood films of the war and post-war era probably also felt a social obligation to provide visions of clarity and comfort to their audiences, and so the propagandistic, opposition-beating elements of BEST YEARS "may" be understood in this context, though not necessarily forgiven. I for one cannot forgive a piece of neo-conservative propagandistic rubbish like FORREST GUMP, no matter how charmingly well-made it is; its charm in fact is part of its danger, the danger of treating our complicated national history like a digitized scrapbook.

But getting back to Chinese films, let me make mention of two that probably no one has seen, but that I highly recommend: THIRD SISTER LIU and STAGE SISTERS, both of which are musicals of the early 60s, right before the Cultural Revolution shut down all film production in China. The first involves a peasant girl who inspires her village to rise up and sing against their oppressive landlords; the second chronicles an actress who helps another actress realize her self-worth through Marxist ideology. Anyone who knows anything about Chinese Communist ideology recognizes the cultural cliches laden in these stories, and could dismiss the films as mere propaganda, valuable as antiquated camp at best. But these films are so beautifully well-made that the ideology, woven seamlessly into the fabric of music, drama and imagery, achieves a state of apotheosis. These films seem ideologically simplistic and yet so beautifully expressed. I am tempted to relate them to the song "Amazing Grace" which similarly achieves a simplistic eloquence to its propagandistic sentiments (that is, if you want to attach the word "propaganda" to religious songs -- hey, why not?)

Or, for those who want a more contemporary and accessible example, take ONCE UPON A TIME IN CHINA, a popular martial arts movie that also happens to be one of the most intense tracts on ant-Westernism I've ever seen. I'm amazed that this film, with British and Americans depicted as bloodthirsty pillagers, is available at Blockbuster Video. Given all that ali-112 has said about the perils of nationalist ideology, there's plenty to object to with this film, and yet it is done with such cinematic brilliance that the overall effect is irresistible. Again this is a film that was made in a state of "crisis": China's imminent takeover of Hong Kong, with most Hong Kong residents wanting to flee overseas, leaving the island territory with little sense of self-worth. The kung fu sequences, with objects and bodies flying in every direction, illustrates this sense of social upheaval; only with the films of King Hu have action and idea reached this level of fusion. If it is rhetoric, it is as powerful as it is irresistible. It could be the kung fu equivalent to BIRTH OF A NATION.

Insofar as all of this has to do with BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES and your reasessment of it, I would say that yes, you might knock the film down a few notches for presenting ideas in a way that you find disingenuous and objectionable, but if it does so in such a way that it fits seamlessly into the overall theme of the film, that's certainly better than a scene that doesn't, wouldn't you say? In other words, if the artistry is there, one has to acknowledge it.

However, I think you and I would agree that we should reserve our highest praise for films that resisted the propagandistic impulse insofar as it resists oversimplifying, and allows for a more complicated and thoughtful appraisal of ideas, and does this in a way that is cinematically brilliant (otherwise we might as well be reading a book, right?). Going again to Chinese cinema, I give you THIS LIFE OF MINE, which was made right after the Communists took over. This film chronicles the life of a common city dweller throughout 5 decades of social tumult. The Qing Dynasty, the Nationalist goverment, the Japanese invaders and the Communists are all dealt with as oppressive forces who have little interest in the welfare of the people (though with the Communists the criticism is remarkably sublte, by necessity of course). You would think, then, that the overriding thesis is that "the people are noblest of all, because they suffer the most", which is a nice sentiment, but is a well-worn cliche, esp. in Chinese culture (look at the films of Zhang Yimou). What makes THIS LIFE OF MINE truly exceptional is that even the common folk do not escape scrutiny; they are as naive as they are noble; as foolish as they are resolute. Whenever the film starts to get one-sided, it quickly tips the scales the other way.

Finally, I give you what is one of the most accomplished cinematic meditations of history and politics, Hou Hsiao Hsien's CITY OF SADNESS. This film was an unprecedented depiction of the brutal measures the Nationalist government took to squash dissent when it took over control of Taiwan. It is an uncovering of the suppressed history of its nation, untold for four decades, and how the government tried to bury this history with propaganda. However, the film is aware that, because of what happened to Taiwan's history, history in general is a malleable object, not an objective truth that is unyielding to the whims of the powers that be. It also seems fully aware that cinema, because of its power to affect the viewer on a visceral level, has a way of presenting history, and life, and truth in a way that audiences rarely bother to question it; in other words, film is the ultimate medium for propaganda.

So what Hou does is "unpackage" history, putting it back into the moment as it was, without the benefit of historical hindsight to supply us with meaning. Instead of retelling history in a clean, didactic manner, he allows us to experience them in the moment, presenting us events and moments without hammering home what they are supposed to mean or telling us how to feel. Unlike most historical works, instead of re-writing history, he is un-writing it.

And so, we have a film whose level of sophistication regarding the telling of history far exceeds anything you'll find out of Hollywood, both past and present. Perhaps it takes a nation that has gone through so many phases of upheaval and social reform, that its people can acknowledge the contradictions they've experienced and transform them into art. But America has had it's share of upheavals as well; I just hope that someday we don't have the urge to paper them over with petty conclusions and a box of chocolates.