Globalisation is reducing diversity to a minimum of conservative, standardised products: homogenised, predigested, regurgitated, slickly packaged goods for universal, easy, unthinking consumption. That’s happening all over the world. But closer to home, and to our hearts, is the problem that there is less space for African filmmakers to be seen or heard. This is not to say that films about Africa are not seen on North American and European television and cinema screens — it is that these films are processed by non-Africans.
We at the Encounters South African International Documentary Festival, an annual event in its ninth year, began with the notion that the festival would, in time, screen as many South African and African titles as international ones. We receive about 500 submissions a year. We look for great stories that speak to our audiences, challenge them through content or form and stimulate debate among filmmakers. We also look for films to buy for television, theatrical and DVD distribution.
We have picked up on a few trends — one being that 40 to 50 of the films about Africa are made by North Americans and Europeans. They usually deal with a crisis or disaster, be it poverty, civil war, child soldiers, Aids, child rape, ecological disasters or mismanagement. Some of these filmmakers have good intentions — to raise awareness — and even include critiques of colonial legacies. But, best intentions aside, the end result often compounds the stereotyping of Africa. We know that disaster and crises attract the curiosity of all people, not only filmmakers. When people are galvanised to right a wrong, it’s a good thing. But, in the context of hundreds of years of imperialism, colonialism and racism, it seems uncomfortable to focus only on the negative.
What is this obsession with Africa as hell? Is it the ”There, but for the grace of God, go I” syndrome? Is it out of a genuine concern to promote awareness around important issues, or is it out of a curiosity for drama and pain?
All of those ”other” filmmakers live in countries that have many of the same issues — inequality, paedophilia and rape, among other things — yet there is this obsession with disasters in Africa.
Disasters aside, there is the problem of interpretation. Without knowledge of a local language, interpretation becomes imposition, and even the most basic exercise of translation can go awry. We have listened to local audiences sigh in disapproval when watching subtitled films with South African languages incorrectly translated, so much so that different meanings are given to the words. There are films that avoid these pitfalls, but more often than not, it comes down to money. Money is power, and the First World has the upper hand in this regard. That being said, there is a need for African filmmakers to tell their own stories, with all their complexity and nuances, for both local and international audiences.
This is not just a simple bash-the-North exercise. We do not come with a sense of entitlement, a ”you owe us” point of view. We’ve watched their films and television for the past 20 years, we can speak their language, we’ve drunk the Coke, swallowed the hamburger. We know them as they will never know us — what we’re afraid of is making the same mistakes.
But what of the films that South Africans are making? Is there life for them beyond the festival circuit? So, what is the alternative? Is the solution simply that more space is made for South African-authored films on North American and European networks? Have we anything new to offer by way of challenging subject matter and innovative filmmaking styles?
African documentary filmmaking has been dependent on European government and donor agencies for funds, more often than not resulting in issue-based films with little appeal beyond a particular audience. There are few AfricanÂÂ-originated sources for financing documentaries, so one questions the ”independence” of such efforts. In South Africa, most of the available money is state funding administered by a number of agencies that often perceive the documentary format as an educational tool crucial for social stability and nation building.
In this young country of ours, with its painful past, we are tasked with the ideal of creating a nation and yet must still recognise the ethnicity of our people. It is laudable that creative talent assists in the promotion of these grand ideals. But we also need the space and money for filmmakers to conceive of films that have nothing to do with the bigger picture.
Steven Markovitz is the director of the Encounters film festival, which takes place in Johannesburg from July 13 to 22 at Nu Metro cinemas, Hyde Park Corner, and in Cape Town from July 19 to August 5, at Nu Metro cinemas, V&A Waterfront
This article first appeared in Reelscreen magazine