Viewing the Foreign : A Spiritual Exercise

“Mommy, can we watch that movie again, with the bad boy and the baby?”

This will not look good on my mother-of-the-year application. Tsotsi, the 2005 international award-winning film directed by Gavin Hood, may not have been the best movie to expose to a four-year-old. She is at the age of critical development, learning from all of her senses, assimilating information at a rapid rate. What comes in will reflect what comes out. Accordingly, I have been exceedingly cautious about what she hears in music, and views in films and television programs. Though I cannot control the media outside of my home, I can limit what is exposed to her while she’s with me.

So how do I justify permitting her to witness the raw portrait of ghetto life in Johannesburg, South Africa? For the record, it wasn’t intentional. We didn’t sit down with a bowl of popcorn between us, giggling in little girl anticipation like we do for the latest cartoon release. She was playing alone in her room when she heard the music, “Kwaito,” the South African version of American hip-hop. A lover of dance she came into the living room to move to the sound of the first scene, an audio-visual montage thumping like the adrenaline rush that comes from surviving a near death experience. To the film’s credit, I was immediately drawn into the story, so engaged I failed to pause and redirect my child’s attention back to her on-going bedroom activity. Three seconds into Tsotsi’s violent beat down of his partner in crime I realized, “Oops, freeze frame! My child shouldn’t be seeing this.”



Once she was safely returned to her station, manipulating playdough into little balls that she could properly drop and crush into the carpet, I was able to push play and continue viewing. Five minutes later, my daughter was back, this time called by the cry of the baby that Tsotsi, had unknowingly kidnapped.

“What’s wrong with the baby?” my daughter asked. Too enthralled with the film’s emotional tension to offer a full explanation, I answered curtly. “He wants his mommy.”

“Where’s he’s mommy?”

I sighed, is it bedtime yet? I looked at the clock: not even close.

I refused to delay the watching of this foreign exposition. Selfish in my desire to escape my own ghetto, (though low-income HUD housing is luxury living by shantytown standards,) I needed to see this to put my struggle in perspective. That is how film works for me; it exposes truth, gives testimony. Foreign films afford the means to witness another existence, to travel without the expense. Better still, it heightens critical consciousness. It proves that I am privileged, even if my bank account argues the contrary. In many cases, films like Tsotsi, are an exercise in humility. They compel compassion certainly, but more immediately satisfying is the activation of gratitude. I am reminded that I am blessed, and become less concerned about being on welfare, and more attentive to the welfare of others.

Still, I didn’t want my labor for cultural awareness to dampen the needs of my child. My daughter’s expression revealed genuine concern for the welfare of this baby strapped into the backseat of his mother’s stolen vehicle. His wails for attention begged resolution. As it would have been cruel for Tsotsi, to leave the infant, it would have been cruel to leave my preschooler with the image of an abandoned baby crying for his mommy. Surely, she must be allowed to witness reunification? 

Photo: Erica Briggs with her daughter Rio

I relented to this demand. Making room for her on the couch, I gave her a quick summary. “The boy was being bad. He took a car that didn’t belong to him, but he didn’t know the baby was in the backseat. Now he has to decide what he’s going to do with the baby.”

“What’s he going to do?”

"I don’t know, watch.”
 
So we did. Together my daughter and I watched a young man, abandoned himself, turn from feral to feeling, instinctual to intuitive. This turning, however, wasn’t so apparent to the mind of a four-year-old. Where the adult sees a marginalized youth, as cold and heartless as the system that displaced the community in which he lives, the child sees a bad boy who stole a baby. I watched hoping the boy would be liberated from his internal prison, she watched hoping the baby would go back to its mommy. We were both satisfied in the end, but we are left with different impressions.

But this difference is obvious; Tsotsi, is a film for grown-ups, (or for adolescents who have been thrust into adulthood too soon.) Yet, viewing this film with a child led me to wonder how children learn about abstract ideas such as compassion? Is the notion of a sinner’s redemption too deep for them? How do we raise a child’s awareness of the battle that sometimes lies between right and wrong in a given context? In other words, is it possible to teach children critical consciousness? If so, would films like Tsotsi be appropriate?

Given the amount of violence in cartoons, not to mention the violence many children witness in their own homes, or in the streets of America’s urban cities, Tsotsi, might be South Africa’s version of Beauty and the Beast. I watched this Disney cartoon recently and the comparison is not so far fetched. Tsotsi, I believe, may in fact offer a better illustration of how a beast can be transformed into a loving man given the opportunity to do so.



This change process may be what Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe called for: “If you treat an individual as if he were what he ought to be and could be, he will become what he ought to be and could be.” How a person is treated defines him, persuades his decisions, motivates his actions, fuels his passions. Film, in essence, is a treatment. Is Tsotsi a thug, gangster or hoodlum as his name implies? Both yes and no, the distinction colored by his treatment in the film. How a character is treated in the story determines how the audience perceives him, and others like him, to such a degree that we transfer and apply our determinations in reality. How is Tsotsi different from the boys in my hood? How do I instruct my daughter when she comes into contact with them? Respond with compassion, child, remember Tsotsi, the boy who stole the baby? This comparison, however, is what can lead the ignorant to believe stereotypes. Film and media are notorious for constructing weak characters based on generalized notions of race, class, gender, nationality and other systems of control. Governments rely on these misrepresentations to justify their policy decisions. If the people view black males as criminally-minded thugs, they will approve of greater funding for prisons. The most powerful tools to create this view are movies and music. The discussion of stereotypes in film and media is one that reaches beyond the scope of this musing. I only mention it here as my own cautionary reminder; the boys in my hood are not Tsotsi. Still, if one of these characters should barge into my door pointing a gun, I would likely respond the same way the young mother Miriam responded to Tsotsi - in fear and anger. Further, I would have told the police after he left, then found a safe place to hide out until he was arrested. Here is where Miriam becomes the stronger woman; she didn’t tell. Granted, Tsotsi threatened to kill her if she did, but I believe the threat was a godsend. If she told the authorities, the story would have ended for Tsotsi, as would his chance for redemption. Rather than acting on her fear, she responded with compassion, an act more brave than simple justice or common combat as seen in the standard film (and therefore the standard reality.)

In this way, film is a tool for spiritual development; it encourages exploration of the foreign – exercising trust in the face of fear, forgiveness rather than retribution. It beckons the emergence of our better selves, urging us to take the greater risk – to love our neighbor as we would want to be loved if we were Tsotsi. Whether Miriam’s show of courage is for the baby or for Tsotsi is inconsequential; once charity is loosed, its force has the power to move any person standing in its midst to do the right thing. Tsotsi, then, serves as an example of how a film can inspire us to step out of the ordinary, to commit random acts of love for our fellow human being. When faced with questionable, and possibly volatile circumstances, we may be more inclined to respond more consciously because we have a point of reference, a testament, an effective treatment for a societal ill. Tsotsi's Miriam is a role model from whom both my child and I can learn to trust and hope, despite the failing human condition.

Of course, the level of critical thinking required to draw such a conclusion, coupled with reading subtitles, exceeds my little one’s cognitive abilities. I would argue, however, that though she may not have grasped the depth of the film’s story, she has a stronger sense of the subtle clues that point to basic principles governing righteous living. As adults, our perceptions blur over time. Layered with judgment and emotional bias, our personal views tint our ethical windows. A child’s perception is unadulterated, pure and simple. A stiff upper lip or cutting glare is concentrated emotion to a fresh pair of eyes. A crying baby is more desperate, an angry warning more intimidating. To my daughter, Miriam’s smile was more forgiving, promising more hope for Tsotsi. And so I think that allowing her to witness this story was more supportive of her growth than the glossy veneer of the average Disney movie. Her senses were stretched beyond happy-ever-after endings, but most importantly, she caught a glimpse of what’s possible when we let go of the idea of merely surviving on instinct, surrendering instead to faithful living.

Citation:

http://www.tsotsi.com/english/index.php?m1=film

Comments

Good Article ....I like it man...

The descriptions in this article of the people in the movie and in the author's home while experiencing the movie are vivid and moving. The provocative thoughts are intriguing. All in all, a true capture of the moment. I want to see this movie.

This is quite an inciteful review. It is both humble and intellectual. It took a gifted, compassionate thinker who can also write to create this piece.

Great writing, no surprise here. Thank you for constantly opening my eyes with your words.

Good article!!! Keep up the good work!!

good stuff. want more.

This is the kind of in-depth analysis needed to deal effectively with the Tsunami of media productions today.

Great writing and insights most people would miss. I look for more.

I'd like to hear what she has to say about "We're all Africans Now" article that was recently published at: www.moreintelligentlife.com/content/jm-ledgard/exodus

I saw the movie, but never thought about it from a more spiritual perspective. I watched the movie with my mother and never thought about it from her perspective either (as a mother). This article offers a view not normally presented in other film blogs (they usually come off snobbish). I appreciate the outlook, and great writing. Let's get more articles like this!

PS. I gave the article five stars, not two. What's up with that? Can I get a recount on my vote?

Fantastic writing; excellent review. I want to see this movie.