Review: Migrating with Ethnographic Films

Hu Tai-li

(President, TIEFF)

Taiwan, in the bosom of the Pacific Ocean, has not rested peacefully in recent years. After the shock of the great earthquake on September 21, 1999, then Typhoon Nari brought the worst flood disaster in Taipei City in two centuries in mid-September 2001. The First Taiwan International Ethnographic Film Festival, prepared in a state of great apprehension, opened on September 21, 2001, just as the flood receded, with the MRT still not operating properly and many streets still in chaos. The original venue (the Center for Academic Activities at Academia Sinica) and the film festival office in the Institute of Ethnology were turned into disaster areas without water or electricity. Workers rushed to move the office to National Taiwan Normal University in Taipei. Fortunately, the Majestic Theatre agreed to screen the films, and the festival was quickly moved there. 12 foreign guests arrived on time and big audiences filled the theatre to attend a film festival born under catastrophic conditions. Upon returning home, Rolf Husmann, chairman of Commission on Visual Anthropology (IUAES), and director Jill Daniels wrote an article that was published in the April 2002 issue of Anthropology Today. They used a particular title: “Of Nightmares, Odysseys and Miracles: A Review of the First “Taiwan International Ethnographic Film Festival.” The article told the story of how the 2001 Taiwan International Ethnographic Film Festival, of which “Island Odyssey” was the main theme, set sail during a nightmarish typhoon.

Stability is a dream, while turbulent Taiwan gives birth to a variety of migration stories. Wave after wave of migrants flow in and then leaves again. Different cultures meet, with some getting lost in the turbulence while other take root and remain. With “Migration” the main theme of the 2003 Second Taiwan International Ethnographic Film Festival, stories of migration within and outside the island of Taiwan highlight each other with the help of images, letting us learn more about how to respond to changes and growth. We have long wanted the five films selected for the “Retrospective” section, and had to exert a great deal of effort to ensure their participation. Jean Rouch is the most famous director of ethnographic documentaries, and he also developed the cinema verite documentary. The biennial Taiwan International Documentary Festival has previously shown Chronicle of a Summer (1960), set in Paris and made by Rouch and Edgar Morin. However, Rouch’s African films, which are more characteristic of the ethnographic documentary and carry more of his individual style, have never been shown in Taiwan. The three films Moi, Un Noir (Me, a Black), Jaguar and Les Maitres Fous (The Crazy Masters) are classic documentaries representative of Rouch’s work. They are all concerned with the issue of migration from countryside to city in Africa. The imagery, hovering between the imaginary and a dream world, demonstrates Rouch’s surrealistic documentary style. The most fundamental motive behind migration is the quest for an existence. In addition to the migration resulting from urban development, the seasonal migration of nomadic peoples following the availability of pastures and water is movingly shown in the film Grass — A Nation’s Battle for Life. The images of 50,000 people bringing 500,000 head of cattle across great rivers and climbing high mountains make this film from 1925 a classic in the “adventure” documentary genre. The film The Oroqen, made 1960 in the Great Xing’an Mountains by the Chinese documentary filmmaker Yang Guanghai of the Bai minority, recreates culture and customs of a people that throughout the four seasons constantly move their tents in the pursuit of prey as they rely on hunting for a living. When the film was made, the Oroqen had already been settled for ten years on the advise of the Chinese communist party, but they were still unwilling to give up their nomadic hunting life. In making the film, Yang wanted to adhere to “scientific” requirements, but, to show the poetic and idyllic lifestyle of nomadic hunting peoples, he was also meticulous in his choice of scenery.

From the more than 200 films sent to us from around the world, and from almost 100 Taiwanese films, we have selected eight films for the “Migration Story-International” section, seven for the “Migration Story-Taiwan” section, and 13 for the “New Vision” section. The migration stories from Taiwan show the migration experience of the island’s different ethnic groups. Wu Mi-sen’s Experimental Taiwanese and Mayaw Biho’s Coming and Going, Island of Tachen both document the mainlanders who migrated to Taiwan during the Chinese civil war. The former adopts a surrealist style, rarely seen in Taiwan in the past, and tells the story of two old men in Taipei building their illusions and dreams. The latter focuses on people from Dachen island in China’s Zhejiang province, who move between Taiwan, the US and Dachen Island without being able to clear out cultural and nationality conflicts. Tsao Wen-chieh’s Dreaming of Home – Marginal Tribe of the City tells the story of an urban Amis migrant community, where adults and children, adrift in reality, build their dream of a family offering shelter. Chen Rong-shien’s Mountain Keepers – Song of Chung Giao Keng and Ho Chao-ti’s County Road 184 documents migration stories among Taiwan’s Hakka people. Mountain Keepers gives a forceful and penetrating portrait of the grace and solitude of the northern Hakka mountain areas. As the young move away, the old people remain, talking their mother language and singing mountain songs in the sun and the mist. The Hakka youth in County Road 184 follow the road from the city back to Meinung Township. The music they create is a forceful attack on the travelers’ minds as it spreads overseas from Taiwan. Lee Daw-ming’s Shattered Dreams reflects the situation of foreign workers in Taiwan, and also takes us to their home land. Tsai Tsung-lung’s My Imported Wife uses the family drama to show a Cambodian wife and how she fearlessly faces her husband and the media, loudly defending herself. Scenes of quarrels making you roar with laughter pointedly burst Taiwanese hypocrisy.

Leaving Taiwan, we also see the migration between countryside and city in other areas. Alu and His Brothers by Zhou Yuejun from Yunnan Province uses a very intimate camera when following the young of the Hani people as they leave the beautiful terraced fields that are unable to feed them, only to move on to other areas and taste the hardships involved in building a life. Vladimir Perovic’s Vanishing is a beautiful but tragic elegy to a village abandoned due to urban migration. Green Tea and Cherry Ripe by Solrun Hoaas documents the lives of Japanese women who followed their Australian husbands home at the end of the Second World War. They have grown old with time, but time can still not wash away the Japanese arts of tea and flower arrangement. Atsushi “Ucci” Uchino’s Droppin’ Lyrics tells the story of young Japanese descendants in the US expressing their feelings about the war and two former enemies – their mother country and the country they have migrated to – through hip hop music. The sincerity of the rapid, smattering lyrics and rhythms is a moving force. Pea Holmquist’s From Opium to Chrysanthemums and Silent Song by Aine O’Brien and Alan Grossman tell stories of international migration. A complicated political and economic situation has turned the area along the Thai, Burmese and Lao borders — the Golden Triangle — into a hot bed for migration. Many Kurds are tragically spread across the world because they cannot find land to live on and because they are politically persecuted. The only way to highlight this situation is to distribute Silent Song through international media. The village in Wei Xing’s A Student Village, built by parents looking to educate their children, is the most special village in this section of the festival. It is moving to see students cook and prepare their livelihood. The film most unique in style is Jakub by Jana Sevickova. The poetic and riddling images reveal the constantly changing national status and historic changes of the Ruthenian people.

The “New Vision” section shows outstanding ethnographic films outside of the migration theme that have been completed over the last two years. Duka’s Dilemma by Jean Lydall and Kaira Strecker, Indo Pino by Martine Journet and Gerard Nougarol, Letter To The Dead by Eytan Kapon, Alfred Melotu: the Funeral of a Paramount Chief by Peter Crawford, Rolf Scott, and Trygve Tollefsen, Oh What A Blow That Phantom Gave Me! by John Bishop and Harald Prins all project the long-term field work of ethnographic scholars and the mutual focus and interaction between the researchers/filmmakers and the people being studied/filmed. Duka’s Dilemma presents a very sympathetic image of a polygamous African society. In an unforgettable way, it follows Duka as she goes from doubt to acceptance of her husband’s new wife and help her through childbirth and breastfeeding her baby. Indo Pino documents how the female shaman of the Indonesian Wana people cures herself when she turns ill, and her commentaries on the effect of the Western medicine given to her by the filmmakers. The filmmakers’ deep understanding and appropriate display of ethnographic materials are key to this film. With truth and humor, Letter to the Dead describes anxiety and expectations on the eve of the Millennium in an indigenous society in Papua New Guinea converted to Christianity. Alfred Melotu: the Funeral of a Paramount Chief and Oh What A Blow That Phantom Gave Me! both deal with the relationship between the society being filmed and the film camera. The former, with the approval of the chief and under his “direction,” becomes a testimony to the chief’s family history and power. The latter presents experiments made by the anthropologist Edmund Carpenter, who brought a film camera with him to indigenous societies in order to explore the effect of visual media on these societies. The New Vision section also includes a few films dealing closely with indigenous cultures. Is the Crown at War with Us? by the famous Canadian aboriginal director Alanis Obomsawin discusses fishing rights of Canadian indigenous peoples under past protective treaties and current legislation. Wuhaliton: Tears of the Moon by the female director Salon Ishahavut of the Bunun people in Taiwan uses animation and a person’s search for his roots as vehicles for telling the Bunun moon legend. Dawu Melody by Lin Chien-hsiang mixes unique chanting with images that seem like the light reflecting off waves to show the experiences accumulated during his many years of participating in the Dawu culture on Lanyu Island. Silent Cello, jointly directed by Chang Han and Shen Ke-Shang, lays a bridge between the Bunun people’s beautiful songs and the cello of a famous Western musician. Chronicle of the Minority Institute by Liu Xiaojin from China documents the efforts a Han musician in love with the rituals, music and dancing of the minorities in Yunnan Province has put into the operations of the Minority Institute. Media Nomads by Donna Ives tells the story of two Australian aboriginal brothers and their efforts to set up a local radio station for indigenous peoples. The New Vision section also includes a very warm and moving film, Daddy & Papa, by Jonny Symons. It describes the joys and sorrows of male same-sex families in California that have adopted Asian and African children. Finally, Forward Forest Dream by Lee Ching-hui brings us back to the great earthquake in Central Taiwan of September 21, 1999. Having survived the destructive disaster, elementary school teachers and students in Nantou walking among the ruins of the old school and dormitories now dream of being able to build an elementary school in the neighboring experimental forest area, managed by National Taiwan University, although difficulties abound. After the film had been selected for inclusion in the festival, the director said there had been further developments regarding the construction of a new school, and that she would change the ending of the film. The story is not yet over, but the film festival is about to begin. As the light hits the silver screen, we will migrate with the images and build a home for our dreams.

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Review: The Oroqen

The making of “The Oroqen”

Cai Jiaqi

In the 1950s, Chinese society experienced a series of socialist movements. During this period of great social transformation, the Chinese leadership initiated a survey of the social history of minority peoples throughout China. The aim was to document traditional and contemporary social attitudes of each minority taking a materialist view of the history of social development, and to use the results as a point of reference for scientific research and when formulating policies for the minority peoples. In 1957, this large-scale field survey for the first time used film as a documentary method. This opened up a long road of exploration of visual anthropology in China. This is the background behind the making of “The Oroqen.”

Due to the high cognitive and research value, a large part of the first set of ethnographic films made in China in the 1950s and 1960s reflected the parts of traditional society that at that time already had disappeared or been discarded. Ethnologists and documentary film makers cooperated using “restorative” or “reconstructive” methods in their filmmaking. The Oroqen is one of the better among these films. I believe this to be directly related to the fact that the group’s researchers gathered a fair amount of data during their seven consecutive years of studying the Oroqen (1956-1963).

The director of the The Oroqen, Mr. Yang Guanghai, (of the Bai people in Dali, Yunnan Province) has worked at the Beijing Scientific and Educational Film Studio. This was his fourth film after he began making ethnological documentaries in 1957. In the summer of 1962, he and the rest of the research team wrote the script together, on location in the Oroqen Autonomous Banner. In other words, they went to the area where the hunters lived to observe and experience their way of life before creating the storyboard and the first draft of the narrative. They then proceeded to consider every aspect of the film and to make concrete arrangements. Early the following year, Guanghai led the film team to the area to start filming. The entire film is concerned with the Oroqens’ hunting activities through each of the four seasons. The filming began during winter in the banner’s Chaoyang area. In May and June, the team moved on to Simuke for filming during spring and summer. In early July, the camera crew was divided into two teams. Guanghai and his team returned to Chaoyang to shoot complementary scenes, while I travelled up the Heilongjiang River to Hunting Village No. 18 in Huma County (today’s Hema County) together with the photographer Yang Junxiong (of the Miao people, from Hunan province). Once there, we filmed the making of birch-bark boats and other summer activities. We finished filming in the field and returned to Beijing by the end of that month.

In those days, filming equipment wasn’t very advanced. We had two film cameras, one Soviet-made and one West German Arriflex II C. The film was black and white Agfa 35 mm, from the Soviet Union and from East Germany. We used tripods and metal tracks for the pan shots. Due to a lack of ligthing equipment, one side of the tent had to be lifted when filming in the cot (a tent made of wooden poles and covered with animal hides or tree bark), and that side would also help reflect further light. Nor did we have any sound synchronization equipment, but only a sound technician and a music editor. Using foreign portable tape recorders, they recorded some Oroqen songs, tribal meetings and shaman dances, which were then edited into the film. All other sound effects were added during post production.

Although some changes became necessary while filming in the field, filming basically adhered to the storyboard. This guaranteed that the script was logically consistent, and that film wasn’t wasted due to impulsive shots. Of all the suggestions during the editing process, the director’s carried the most weight. During the post production editing process, an average of one scene out of every three shots was selected, giving a shooting ratio of 3:1.

In 1963, there were only about 2,400 Oroqen left. In the mid-17th century, they gradually moved, following their prey to the Greater and Lesser Xing’an Mountains in Inner Mongolia and Heilongjiang. There they dispersed further along the rivers according to tribal or ethinc organization. During the first half of the last century, they still remained in the final stages of primitive society, the hunting commune, or what the Oroqen call the “wulileng.” The Oroqen language is an Altaic, or Manchu-Tungusic, language. They practice shamanism, and worship nature, ancestors and a multitude of totem spirits. Social life and culture are heavily characterized by the life of a hunting people.

The greatest change we discovered in the early 1960s was that the Oroqen’s tribal and ethnic organization had disintegrated, and that knowledge of this organization only remained among a few of the older people. The past nomadic paternal family had already given way to a land based society, and, in particular, hunters had stopped their roaming ten years earlier. Everyone had settled down and many hunting villages and roads had been built in the Xing’an Mountain forests. We did see, however, that the hunters in some of the villages were not too used to living in the government-built rows of connected, wooden houses. Many of them missed living in their cot during hunting and often built one in front of their house. We also discovered that no fundamental changes had taken place in the way they hunted or in most of their clothing and utensils. This provided a good foundation for restorative filming.

In early March that year, I went to the capital of the Autonomous Banner, Alihe, after having received an assignment to participate in the making of the film. I was to assist in its production as a representative of the Institute of Ethnology in the Philosophy and Social Sciences Department at the Chinese Academy of Sciences, and to collect the hunters’ utensils and send them to Beijing using the expense money given to me by the institute. In addition, I also had to find the time for further surveys on behalf of the institute.

Restorative filming in The Oroqen focused mainly on traditional hunting activities. The hunting of leopard, black bear and squirrel during the winter season documented in the film was shot following the hunters into their actual hunting grounds in the mountains. I had many discussions with Guanghai regarding the fact that the Oroqen spent most of their time hunting red deer. They had accumulated very particular ways and experience of hunting deer due to its high economic value. I believed that it would be a big shortcoming if the film did not contain any actual deer hunting. But there are many difficulties attached to filming the hunting of deer. Red deer are very alert, and will run away at the slightest noise or movement. We didn’t have any telephoto or zoom lenses, but only a standard lens, which made this kind of shooting very difficult. We thought of buying a red deer from the local deer farm for the filming, but couldn’t pay the high price and had to abandon that idea. In the end, we made up for this by filming deer inside the deer farm, avoiding fencing and other structures. We then added images of the hunters shooting as part of the editing process.

There is a lot of restorative filming in the film — bows and arrows, spears, and skis are all old utensils. The manufacturing of birch-bark and leather utensils and the processing of metal utensils; gathering, fishing, and moving the wulileng in summer and autumn; weddings and funerals; the exchange of objects with other tribes within the “Anda” system; settling down and farming in Heilongjiang Province; ethnic group meetings and shaman dances — all these scenes were the results of restorative filming for which necessary arrangements had to be made. Each time we were to shoot a new scene, we had to first explain it several times to the participants and listen to their suggestions, in particular to the suggestions of the older participants, while also stressing that they should follow their normal behaviour. We felt that as long as we managed to clearly explain the main theme of a scene, and as long as they accepted it, we should let the hunters behave the way they wanted, without our interfering or making any specific demands.

The hunters and grassroots level cadres who participated in the making of “The Oroqen” fully understood the significance and value of making it — making and keeping a documented record of the Oroqens’ hunting life to show the younger generations the hardships endured by the older generations. We were moved by the way they constantly provided enthusiastic and competent support and made the shooting progress smoothly. I understand that the film has been shown locally several times to enthusiastic audiences, with the hunters so excited at seeing their own lives and images that they didn’t want to leave, but requested that the film be played over and over again. When I returned to the area in the 1980s, local Oroqen cadres called the film their “ancestral film.” 40 years on, all the old people in the film and some of the young have already left this world. I remember them, and to this day often see their shadows moving before my eyes.

(With the permission of Mr. Cai Jiaqi, this extract has been taken from his unpublished work, “Restorative and Reconstructive Documentaries — Memories of the Making of The Oroqen “

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Review: Tracing Silhouettes: Three Movies by Jean Rouch

Lin Wen-Ling

French director Jean Rouch is among the directors to be presented at this year’s Taiwan International Ethnographic Film Festival. A prominent director of documentary films, Jean Rouch is also renowned worldwide as the founder of the Comite du Film Ethnographique at the Musee de l’Homme and the reality cinema (cinema verite) film genre that he developed in the 1950s remains influential today. In keeping with this year’s theme “Migration Story” Jean Rouch’s well-known and brilliant series of the 50s and 60s will be shown at this exhibition. Interestingly, some of the films were not edited and completed until 10 years after they were shot. Three of his works, The Crazy Masters (Les Maitres Fous, 1953-1954), Jaguar (1954-1967), and Me, A Black (Moi, Un Noir, 1959), will be shown at this year’s festival.

In these films, Jean Rouch probes historical factors of colonial Western Africa, such as the rise of port cities, economies, and employment situations, which brought about the movement of large populations. These films have three common themes: journey, the city, and modern life. The term “journey,” however, entails a different meaning and “city” manifests another dimension of life. These films all employ ritual and are divided into three sections each.

The Crazy Masters: A Journey of the Transformation of the Mind 
Opening up in downtown Accra, Ghana’s capital city, the film unceremoniously plops the audience into the middle of the bustling city, referred to by Rouch in his narration as “the true black Babylon,” packed with people from all over Western Africa struggling to partake of this the “best and most exciting city of Africa.”

In the second part of the film, the camera follows an impoverished group of Hauka disciples from Niger living in Accra as they flock to the suburbs where they take part in a ritual. In the heat of the ritual, large numbers of Hauka believers enter trance like states as they are possessed by the spirits of colonizers. Some begin taking on the expressions and mannerisms of the English (including the colonial English governor and his entourage). At this point, Rouch inserts scenes from the place where the “real” governor and his entourage met in Accra. This side-by-side scene arrangement brings the film to its dramatic climax and reinforces the film’s implication, that is, in the blink of an eye, the Hauka believers subvert the colonial power and authority of their white rulers as they imitate them.

Rouch, who employs a series of flashbacks in The Crazy Masters, returns to the city the following day to interview members of the Hauka sect that had taken part in the ceremony over the weekend. We see scenes of them back in their daily lives working quietly and efficiently, interwoven with scenes of possession from the previous day’s ceremony.

The debut of this film in Paris in the 1950s caused an uproar and discomfort among viewers, including African intellectuals. Not only were the trance shots a mockery to the government, they showed political structures, both colonial and post colonial, as illegitimate and irrational.

The Crazy Masters is a film about more than spiritual possession and marks a milestone in anthropologic films. Rouch employs visual and sound effects to carefully craft the film’s atmosphere, thereby providing a transforming power that leads members of the audience to reflect and fall into their own trances.

Rouch originally considered films concrete witnesses to culture. In The Crazy Masters, his views changed. He now saw the camera as an ethnographic tool to further the understanding of ethnic groups. Reality cinema contends that ethnographic reality occurs during encounters between researcher and subject or between individuals on either side of the camera. It is not simply the recording of reality. Rouch would no longer use his films to convey existent knowledge; rather he would use them to appeal to and/or influence the viewer’s mind, to throw his senses into turmoil, to overthrow old ways of thinking, and to introduce new depths to knowledge and new ways of understanding.

Jaguar: Moving to the City in Search of Wealth 
Many correlations, including similar settings, exist between Jaguar and The Crazy Masters. Migration, the city, and modern life, the central themes of The Crazy Master, appear again in Jaguar. Although they share the themes of journey and the movement of human beings and structures built on these themes, the films depict different characters, places, and events.

In the movie Jaguar, the three main characters, Lam, Ilom, and Damoure, journey from Savannah, Niger to Ghana’s Gold Coast to seek adventure and fortune, returning two months later. The film is divided into three distinct parts each built around their unfolding stories. The first section begins with the introduction of Lam, Ilom, and Damoure preparing for their journey and ends with them arriving at customs. The second section, focuses on their urban adventures. They reunite in the third section and return home.

Each of Jaguar’s three sections has his own distinct form. The dizzying movement of Rouch’s camera, for example, characterizes the first as it never stops moving, rotating, or shifting as if it were one of the characters. The documentary style of this film is also characterized by sudden departures in this section to surrealistic shots. Rouch employs light, plants, and scenery to reinforce the feeling of “leaving an unfamiliar world for an unknown one.”

In the second section of the movie, our three adventurers head off, each on his own quest. Their stories are staggered to lend to a sensation of confusing, fragmented modern city life. In contrast to the city, the village from which the three young men hail is set in a concrete time, giving it more of a feeling of reality, providing them social identity and legitimacy. Driven by the leading characters’ personalities, Jaguar develops gradually and its plot forms as it extols the subjectivity of man and, because his subjectivity offers limitless possibilities, the city becomes the ideal place for pursuing dreams, fantasies, and new identities. The three leading characters of this film, Lam, Ilom, and Damoure, represent the generations of people of this region that have headed to cities in search of adventure and fortune. Jaguar explores subjectivity and the migration experience of this area.

Me, A Black: A Week in the Lives of Immigrants
Young people from all over pour into Africa’s major cities daily in pursuit of fortune and dreams, but their dreams remain out of reach as the realities of life take precedence. They have no choice but to do odd jobs offering no promise for tomorrow and are referred to as the “new urban plague.”

In Me, A Black, a reality based documentary, a group of laborers from Niger working in the Ivory Coast’s capital city of Abidjan reenact their own lives in front of the camera. The first section of the film shows them throughout the course of a week as they perform odd jobs and try to secure steady work in an attempt to blend into the city. In the second part of the film, the camera follows “Robinson” as he spends his day off at the seashore. The third section portrays another week’s arrival.

Although the second part of the film portrays him relaxing and having a good time, he still cannot seem to find work. In the midst of his reveling, Robinson loses himself in reverie. His fantasies of being a champion boxer, only offer temporary reprieve from his plight. Robinson returns to reality as an Italian hits on the girl he likes and the Italian beats the intoxicated Robinson to a pulp. The scene is followed by the start of a new week as Robinson continues his search for work. Their homeland of Niger seems further and further away as do their childhood memories as they struggle in the bustling, booming city.

The boxer and fight scenes do an excellent job of bringing home the idea of the dialectical relationship between “reality” and “fiction.” Robinson’s dream of being a champion boxer becomes part of the film, revealing his desire to become wealthy as quickly as possible, while the scrap with the Italian heaves him back into reality. While shots of sweat and tears leave the audience wondering if the scenes are real or play-acted, they reveal reality and do an excellent job of accurately conveying day-to-day difficulties experienced by Niger youths in the Ivory Coast.

Tracing Silhouettes 
Like his peers, Rouch strove to realize ocularcentrism’s sight/visual knowledge, regarding things seen, on the one hand, as a kind of sight as optical fact, while viewing the act of seeing as a sense of perception, rather than sight as perceptual phenomena. The experimental nature of his films, however, reveals unique insight derived from intuition. The reality revealed in Rouch’s films, therefore, differ from that of other filmmakers, showing the fundamental distinction being their different ways of seeing things.

Reflecting reality, Rouch’s documentary films are concerned with viewer reaction to social realities, on the one hand, and are characterized by surrealist techniques such as intervention, fabrication, extemporaneous acting, and creative narratives, on the other, as the attempt to overthrow established views on social realities and provide opportunity for change. The effects created by the painstakingly deliberate blending and staggered use of visual and audio elements give the viewer more freedom and power to understand and interpret his films. The techniques he uses for divulging truth to his films their sense of authenticity.

The term “tracing silhouettes” symbolizes drawing outlines around the light of rationality. Rather than being distinct, the lines between rationality and irrationality, light and darkness, whites and blacks drift and shift. Pay close attention to the light’s periphery and see how Rouch’s films blend romanticism with surrealistic humanism.

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