JonathanRosenbaum - Surname Viet Given Name Nam

02/04/13
JonathanRosenbaum.com Blog Archive Undermining Authority [SURNAME VIET GIVEN NAME NAM]
JonathanRosenbaum.com
Featured Text Notes Publications and Events About This Site
Undermining Authority [SURNAME VIET GIVEN NAME NAM]

From the Chicago Reader (June 23, 1989). J.R.
SURNAME VIET GIVEN NAME NAM *** (A must-see) Directed and written by Trinh T. Minh-ha. How many, already, have been condemned to premature deaths for having borrowed the masters tools and thereby played into his hands? Trinh T. Minh-ha
www.jonathanrosenbaum.com/?p=27502
1/17
02/04/13
Uncertainty is a difficult premise on which to build a documentary, although there are times when it may be the only honorable perspective. To be without certainty usually means to be without authority, and it is the position of authority that generally determines the form and address of the documentary as we know it. As a rule, we depend on the solidity of an authority figure in order to feel unified and legitimized as spectators. No matter how many people may be behind the filming or taping of a news broadcast or documentary, and no matter how many people may be watching it, the pretense of some form of one-on-one communication between spectacle and spectator is nearly always maintained in order to facilitate the transmission of information. Whether its an anchorperson addressing the camera, a voice-of-God narrator providing offscreen commentary, or an interview subject addressing an interviewer who becomes our surrogate, the illusion is always fostered that information is traveling directly from an authority to an individual spectator, who is made to feel authoritative in turn because of the implied intimacy and directness of address. To interfere with this process is to upset the whole applecart; when the singularity, unity, and authority of the message and messenger are undermined, the spectator may feel similarly dispersed, divided, and uncertain.
2/17
02/04/13
Undermining documentary authority is a central aspect of all three of Trinh T. Minh-has films to date her short Reassemblage (1982), her feature Naked Spaces (1985), and now her second feature, Surname Viet Given Name Nam. Much of what is transgressive about all three films can be traced to this purpose. (In the new film, her method of carrying out this program depends in part on some delayed exposition, and readers who would prefer to approach the film innocently are advised to read no further.) In her first two films, both of which deal with West Africa, Trinh challenges and refutes the underlying principles of ethnographic films through camera work, editing, and the use of offscreen commentaries. The first two sentences uttered in Reassemblage go straight to the heart of the matter: Scarcely 20 years were enough to make 2 billion people define themselves as underdeveloped. . . . I do not intend to speak about just speak nearby. Significantly, in the credits of Naked Spaces (a film that deals with West African architecture), Trinh both gives herself a directors credit and places an X over the word directed dislocating our usual sense of authority at the outset, and indirectly suggesting that redirection and indirection are equally descriptive of what she does. In Surname Viet Given Name Nam a film whose title already undermines conventional notions of unity and identity Trinhs principal target is the interview, which she manages to dismantle both as a form and as a concept. While the film uses many different kinds of material and texts, the major focus is on a series of apparent interviews with Vietnamese women. During the first part of the film, these interviews are conducted in English. The interviewer or interviewers remain offscreen throughout, and the women are apparently addressing these unseen presences. In point of fact, almost none of the conventional anchoring devices used to stabilize the interview format is allowed to remain fixed in these sequences. The lighting often fluctuates between darkness and brightness, without any clear motivation; the camera periodically drifts away from the womens faces, panning or sometimes just swaying back and forth or up and down to upset our sense of equilibrium. The womens disorienting deliveries suggest at different times sincerity and insincerity, direct expression and what appears to be the recitation of a text that is not always fully understood. The speakers often pronounce English words phonetically rather than accurately, and their heavy Vietnamese accents oblige us to make a concerted effort to understand them. Sometimes a portion of what theyre saying appears graphically on the screen, which assists our understanding; but occasionally this visual aid also derails us by furnishing a text at some variance with what we hear. At other times, the visual text becomes so prominent that we find we have to choose between reading and listening. (Do you translate by eye or by ear? one of the narrators asks at one point.) These initial interviews explore the experiences and oppression of Vietnamese women in Vietnambut as we eventually discover, the women recounting these experiences are not the same women who experienced and originally described them. Interviews originally conducted in Vietnam in Vietnamese and published in French in 1982 have been translated into English by Trinh. She then gave these texts to other Vietnamese women, refugees now living in California,
www.jonathanrosenbaum.com/?p=27502 3/17
02/04/13
to recite and perform. Only later in the film, when some of these American refugees are themselves interviewed in a clearly American setting, do they speak in (subtitled) Vietnamese. A few elements producing instability persist in these interviews, such as fluctuations in lighting, but for the most part they register as conventional in form. Trinh encourages us to read them somewhat against the grain, however, in her offscreen introduction to this part of the film: By choosing the most direct and spontaneous form of voicing and documenting, I find myself closer to fiction. Trinh recently explained to me that she deliberately gave herself less control over the interviews in the films second part, letting each woman choose what she wore and how she presented herself. (As a result, all of these women tend to come across as middle-class although some are working-class because this was how they wanted to be seen in an American context.) The central setting of this second part is a community of Vietnamese immigrants in San Jose; the events shown include a classroom discussion, a Miss Vietnam competition, and a wedding. It quickly becomes clear that cultural translation the influence of American customs and attitudes is as pertinent to the film as linguistic translation. To point up the playacting aspect of this cultural translation, Trinh lists each of these women in the final credits as an actress playing two roles a woman in Vietnam and herself. Its not surprising that translation should be a major preoccupation of Trinhs. A writer, composer, and teacher as well as a filmmaker, she immigrated to the United States in 1970; she composes classical Vietnamese music, writes in French as well as English, and teaches in San Francisco. (One of her books in French, Un art sans oeuvre , was published in this country in 1981; another, a collection of poetry called en minescules , was published in Paris in 1987; her latest book, in English, Woman/Native/Other, was just published this month by Indiana University Press.) The fact that her first two films are about West Africa, and the fact that all three of them are in English but have been influenced in certain ways by both French literature and literary theory, complicate still further the issue of cultural translation.
Trinhs many activities and influences seem to be at play throughout the film, informing its rhythms and textures as well as its poetics and its sense of plural voices. The film opens with silent, slow-motion color footage of a row of Vietnamese women dancing, accompanied by sounds of moving water, then of an explosion. Finally, as the films title appears underwater and against a black background, we hear a thunderstorm; its sounds seem to combine the two previous
02/04/13
sounds. As in Naked Spaces, the offscreen commentary is assigned to many different female voices with a variety of accents South African and American as well as Vietnamese and none of these is privileged over any of the others as a conveyor of the truth or assigned an ethnic identity: an American voice is just as likely to relate the experience of a Vietnamese woman as a Vietnamese one. What Trinh herself at one point describes as the impossibility of a single truth in witnessing, remembering, recording, forgetting informs the subject matter as well, which ranges from Vietnamese folklore to critical commentary to historical reflection to personal experience. The effect of using many voices is to cut these texts loose from their sources and allow them to circulate freely in the space of the film and the spectators imagination, along with the Vietnamese instrumental music and songs that are also heard. A similar principle of plurality governs the variety of visual materials used: rubbing shoulders with each other are still photographs ranging from photojournalism to family snapshots, diverse kinds of archival and original footage, and various printed texts (including subtitles). Each of these materials is sculpted to fit the films contours and rhythms. Trinh often uses an optical printer to manipulate her material, she uses subtitles calculatedly and selectively, and she artfully composes all of the interviews in the first part of the film in relation to the camera. If the overall effect of these visual and aural strategies is musical to a greater degree than that produced by the comparable methods of multiplying and dispersing voices and texts in the films of Yvonne Rainer and the videotapes of Steve Fagin, for example it is partially the spectators process of selection that creates the resulting melodies and harmonies. (Berenice Reynaud has written, The purpose of the film . . . is not to give voice to hitherto silent bodies, but rather to give them full value as musical instruments acknowledging their own sound, their density, their fullness, their intrinsic beauty, even when the melody they resonate was written by somebody else.) Spectators who have found this film unemotional seem to be unconsciously rebelling against the abundance of emotional material about the subjugation of women that is offered. They may also be troubled by the fact that these emotions most of them indescribably sad, a few of them offering signs of hope arent assigned to a single voice or woman and arent authenticated by a single source of authority. Instead theyre distributed across the entire surface of the film, and each spectator is obliged to find her or his own place in relation to them. Each spectator, in other words, is asked to be as dispersed, as divided, and as uncertain as the film itself insists on being. By the same token, Trinhs refusal to make political hay of the distinctions between North and South Vietnam may also disturb some viewers. But it is a refusal motivated and justified by the films focus the marriage of the Vietnamese woman to the state, whether it happens to be North Vietnam, South Vietnam, central Vietnam, or the United States. Any discussion of communism versus capitalism would tend to glide over or obscure that focus. Late in the film, Trinh offers a poetic commentary that gives us a fresh notion of both the war in Vietnam and cinema: War as a succession of special effects: the war became film before it was shot. Cinema has remained a vast machine of special effects. If the war is the continuation of politics by other means, then media images are the continuation of war by other means: immersed in the machinery, part of a special effect, no critical distance. Nothing separates the Vietnam war and the super-films that were made and continue to be made about it. It is said that if America lost the other [war], they have certainly won this one. . . . There is no winner in a war. Trinh proposes an alternative to this model of war as cinema and cinema as war. The problem of translation, after all, is a problem of reading, and of identity. Intermingling country, family, language, culture, and identity in its title as well as in its form and substance, Surname Viet Given Name Nam suggests that we may have to dismantle all of them before we can begin to put them back together again.
5/17
02/04/13
Published on 21 Sep 2011 in Featured Texts, by jrosenbaum This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 21st, 2011 at 12:00 am and is filed under Featured Texts. Follow the comments through the RSS 2.0 feed. Comments are closed, leave a trackback from your site. Published on 23 Jun 1989 in Featured Texts, Featured Texts, by jrosenbaum This entry was posted on Friday, June 23rd, 1989 at 9:49 am and is filed under Featured Texts, Featured Texts. Follow the comments through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and trackback are closed. Honey, I Shrunk the Kids Spike Lee Sees It All Comments are closed.
Search
search
6/17
02/04/13
Syndication
RSS
Archives
April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010 January 2010 December 2009 November 2009
02/04/13
October 2009 September 2009 August 2009 July 2009 June 2009 May 2009 April 2009 March 2009 February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 July 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006 June 2006 May 2006 April 2006 March 2006 February 2006 January 2006 December 2005 November 2005
02/04/13
02/04/13
02/04/13
02/04/13
02/04/13
October 1989 September 1989 August 1989 July 1989 June 1989 May 1989 April 1989 March 1989 February 1989 January 1989 December 1988 November 1988 October 1988 September 1988 August 1988 July 1988 June 1988 May 1988 April 1988 March 1988 February 1988 January 1988 December 1987 November 1987 October 1987 September 1987 August 1987 July 1987 June 1987 April 1987 March 1987 June 1986 March 1986 February 1986 January 1986 December 1985 November 1985 September 1985 August 1985 July 1985 June 1985 April 1985 February 1985 January 1985 December 1984 November 1984 October 1984 September 1984
02/04/13
August 1984 July 1984 June 1984 April 1984 October 1983 September 1983 July 1983 June 1983 April 1983 January 1983 December 1982 November 1982 October 1982 September 1982 August 1982 July 1982 June 1982 April 1982 January 1982 December 1981 November 1981 October 1981 September 1981 August 1981 July 1981 June 1981 May 1981 April 1981 March 1981 February 1981 January 1981 December 1980 November 1980 October 1980 September 1980 August 1980 July 1980 June 1980 May 1980 April 1980 March 1980 December 1979 October 1979 September 1979 July 1979 May 1979 April 1979 March 1979
02/04/13
January 1979 October 1978 September 1978 July 1978 May 1978 March 1978 February 1978 January 1978 November 1977 October 1977 July 1977 June 1977 February 1977 January 1977 December 1976 November 1976 October 1976 September 1976 August 1976 July 1976 June 1976 May 1976 April 1976 March 1976 February 1976 January 1976 December 1975 November 1975 October 1975 September 1975 August 1975 July 1975 May 1975 April 1975 March 1975 February 1975 January 1975 December 1974 November 1974 October 1974 September 1974 August 1974 July 1974 June 1974 May 1974 April 1974 March 1974 February 1974
02/04/13
January 1974 September 1973 July 1973 June 1973 May 1973 March 1973 January 1973 November 1972 October 1972 July 1972 June 1972 April 1972 September 1971 June 1971 April 1971 December 1970 April 1969 January 1969 September 1968 May 1966 September 1964 March 1964 June 1961 February 1960 December 1958 October 1958 November 1957
16/17
02/04/13
Design: NET-TEC Artikelverzeichnis of Wellnessreisen Coding: Schwedenhuser of Elektro Holzspalter. Copyright 2013 Sun-Times Media, LLC.
17/17

JonathanRosenbaum - Surname Viet Given Name Nam

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Description:

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

JonathanRosenbaum - Surname Viet Given Name Nam

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

02/04/13

Undermining Authority [SURNAME VIET GIVEN NAME NAM]

You might also like