I've written an article on The Index Film Award for which I am a judge. The award is given tonight at a glitzy champagne reception in Christchurch, Shoreditch. I have sent my article off but I wrote two and this is the other one. It is so different from the other articlethat I thought that I must share it here.
In the
seventies, in my house, Cowboy and
Indian films were a must see event. The John
Wayne swagger was to be practiced in the mirror. “Get off your horse and drink
your milk” was as good an attempt at his voice, albeit with a high pitched Lancashire
accent. I don’t know if he said that line but I
repeated it ad-nauseum, especially at breakfast. He was my hero. In our world there were baddies and goodies. Native
Americans known as Indians were baddies
and cowboys were goodies. Mexicans
were filthy distrustful things that didn’t even get into the equation.
None of these
judgements are true. The films could
have been gritty Steinbeck affairs, for all I know. But how was the west won? At Christmas I got hundreds of small plastic
cowboys on horses with cannons and little plastic attachable rifles which I
chewed relentlessly because of the satisfying texture. I would then enact the colonisation of an
entire continent, at Christmas. It was
the Cowboys that killed the painted exotic plastic detachable chewy-tomahawk wielding
Indians.
I needed
heroes in my childhood. Britain needed
heroes. The world needs heroes. As jazz
musician and poet gil scott heron said in his poem B Movie “the heroes always ride
off or on, into the sunset. Hollyweird”.
It was only a matter of time that I would get myself a gun and walk out
into my front garden firing it with ricocheting self made sound effects “Peeow
peeow!!”. Lancashire was my grand canyon, Chief our golden Labrador
my long suffering steed. I had the gun,
with caps, the white vinyl holster with
silver press studs and I was the fastest
draw in west ashton in Makerfield.! A gun toting rootin tooting two foot tall John Wayne
The
systematic and deliberate attempt to wipe out a race is genocide. The collective narrative of these films was to
celebrate what was described to me by a learned colleague as Apartheid. Two words that I don’t hear used to describe
the relatively new country, America. Films poured from across the atlantic in giant
waves of celluloid misinformation, wave after wave after wave, until the
landscape had been manipulated to accommodate the onslaught.
But what of
now? What of the Iraq war? What if the world has started to question Americas most
lethal propaganda machine – it’s film industry. What if things are changing? Though nowadays, fro Hollywood, losing is the
new winning, questioning is the new answer, The American film industry simply does not have the tools for true
introspection. The stakes are too high.
I am sure
there were dissident voices and I am sure my fellow judge of the Index On Censorship
film Award, which he will be presenting tonight, Mark Kermode, could put me
right on a few “Cowboy films”.
So who will
tell the story of the greatest event of the 21st century: The Iraq War. One of the
films on the short list of the Index on Censorship film award is called Ahlaam Dreams. It’s shot in Baghdad shortly after the war. The Index Film Award will be presented
tonight at a glitzy affair in
Christchurch Shoreditch. Whether Ahlaam Dreams , or any of the contenders, have
won the Index Film Award is not what I shall reveal here, 9 hours before the
prize giving. But on the topic of “heroes” and film I feel you should see what I discovered on the films website:
After Saddam Hussein
was overthrown in 2003, Al-Daradji travelled back to his homeland of Iraq, after having fled the country to Holland while studying Theatre Directing at the Fine Art
Institute in Baghdad,
following the murder of his politically active cousin in 1995. On his arrival,
he found heartbreaking chaos and was particularly disturbed with the sight of
numerous psychiatric patients wandering on the streets, as the hospitals were
being destroyed be the bombings. The experience served as the germ for
Mohamed’s first feature film, “Ahlaam,” which he filmed on location in Iraq in 2004
under brutal circumstances. “I would like to bring the subject very close to
the audience with an artistic point of view,” he says. Devotion to realism can
have its perils. Mohamed and three of his crew members were kidnapped twice in
the same day, by Iraqi insurgents who held them at gun point with bags over
their heads ready to execute them.”