my final hist243 essay.. done with much blood, sweat and heart

From Braveheart to Gladiator: what historical films teach us about history

A Beautiful Mind in 2002. Shakespeare in Love in 1999. The English Patient in 1997. It doesn’t take an extremely astute filmgoer to notice an interesting pattern occurring on an increasingly regular basis at the Oscars. Historical films are back in vogue. One just has to look at the number of historical films that have been released recently or are in pre- and post-production now that hark back to the days gone by to know that historical films are making their presence felt in the film industry. Just this year alone, audiences have been taken back to wars in Somalia (Black Hawk Down), Germany (Hart’s War) and Vietnam (We Were Soldiers), gotten a taste of father-son bonding (Road to Perdition) and unravelled a whodunit murder mystery (Gosford Park).

So what exactly is it about historical films that has captured the attention of both filmmakers and filmgoers alike? As sacrilegious as this may sound to most historians, historical films appeal because they offer a broader perspective than what history (of the written variety) has to offer to people now.

Films, more so than other forms of mass media, have become one of the best ways of disseminating out messages and information to the public. One just has to look at the rakings that films take in at the box-office to get a sense of their potential power not only to entertain, but also to influence and educate the masses. How many people are there who could name all the members of the ill-fated Apollo 13 spacecraft before the film premiered?

Thus, it can be argued that films, especially historical ones, can help bring attention to issues and events in the past that otherwise would not be discussed or known by the wider public. In fact, historical films are becoming increasingly credited with being the most effective and to a larger extent, the only method, through which people have contact with the past, other than through their history textbooks.

However, all this would sound like drivel to a confused person who might have been pondering life’s bigger issues – if historical films are about the past, then wouldn’t every film, except those projecting the future, be considered historical? In a sense, yes. But to prevent such existential notions from making our brains hurt from thinking too much, historical films shall be limited to the following categories: those that chronicle people’s lives, events and movements that occurred in the past and those that have fictional and/or real characters and plots and historical settings that are “intrinsic to the story and meaning of the work.”

Yet this definition of historical films raises another related question – what is history? To most people, it’s a boring school subject about dead people and wars that you had to take, however you might have tried to squirm out of it. However, this simplistic qualification, though relatively true about the state of history in schools, does not do justice to history, which is much more complex to quantify than that.

History, it must be stated, is different from the past – the two entities “float free from each other”. It is commonly assumed that the two are the same, however, this could not be further from the truth. As has been established by many historians, the past is a series of events that have occurred. There is no way that we will be able to rediscover everything about the past as it is over and many things that have happened have left behind nothing at all. Memory, which is essential and very relevant to this process of recording the past, is even more complicated an issue and will be discussed in more detail later. Thus, it can thus be reasoned that history (and here we refer to the written discourse) is essentially a historian’s interpretation of the past. Oakeshott explained it best when he said, “There is no fact in history which is not a judgement, no event which is not an inference.”

If we were to follow this vein of thought, that history is just a matter of interpretation and selecting what one deems significant, then historical films would also be able to be categorised as such. This view though obvious, is one that is not shared by most historians and people alike. They view historical films, as an inferior other, one that is whimsical and more about entertaining than informing. They “tend to use written works of history to critique visual history as if that written history were itself something solid and unproblematic.”

So what can historical films teach us about history?

If one were to rely solely on written history for an impression of what such a wide-ranging subject entails, the general impression would be that history is “in terms of narratives, sequences, dates and chronologies”. Though this view may be the most common one associated with history, it is certainly not the only one, nor the best. As historian R.J Raack himself conceded, “‘Traditional written history’… is too linear and too narrow in focus to render the fullness of the complex, multidimensional world in which humans live.” This is where historical films can provide a more balanced and perhaps, truthful, view of the past.

An innovative method that an increasing number of historical films is using is the concept of polyphony, where instead of one sole narrative voice, there is a variety, all offering different perspectives on the same issue. This process is clearly illustrated in Distant Voices, Still Lives, a British film set in post World War II about how a family copes with an abusive father. The film employs the use of evocative vignettes to show how the various characters remember the past. An example in the film would be when the characters are in a room remembering their father and the camera zooms in on one of the sisters and depicts her memory of him shouting at her and abusing her physically as she tries to scrub the floor. After the short scene, it returns to the characters in the room and presents another’s view, where the father is loving man who dotes on his child. This film thus shows how history can and should be more open to “the existence of other interpretations.” However, it must be qualified that certain voices will be privileged over others. Nevertheless, this should not deter people from realising that such openness provides an opportunity for more critical thinking. Other films with similar techniques include Courage Under Fire and Rashomon.

Another film that challenges the long-held assumption that history must be chronological and linear is Memento. The film centres around Leonard Shelby (Guy Pearce), who suffers from anterograde amnesia. Although he is unable to make new memories after an injury to his head, he can remember all events prior to the incident. This film interestingly reflects on the importance of memory, a mental process often taken for granted, to a person. Memento reveals the difficulties of living without the ability to remember anything – Shelby has to take Polaroid photographs of his worldly possessions (including his car, where he lives, etc.) and of people he encounters so that he will remember them the next time he meets them. The use of memory as a tool for recording events and more significantly, the past, is questioned through the notes that Shelby leaves for himself on the photographs to help him remember details about the person photographed. Although he might have written something earlier on it, he changes the caption occasionally after an encounter with the person in the photograph. An example would be when Shelby changes his note about Teddy (Joe Pantoliano) from him being a friend to “Don’t Believe his Lies” after he thinks Teddy has deceived him. Thus the viewer becomes aware of how ephemeral and fragile memory is. Shelby himself points this out, “Memory’s unreliable. No really. Memory’s not perfect. It’s not even that good… Memories can be changed or distorted and they’re irrelevant if you have the facts.” This arouses serious doubts about the role of memory in history, as many events in the past are based on recollections of survivors, witnesses and others involved in the past events. Thus as history has been perceived by some as “no more than an official memory”, Memento questions our reliance on it in the recording of history.

Besides encouraging us to look at history more laterally, historical films have also presented us with the notion of looking at things in different ways from which they are commonly perceived. JFK, the Oliver Stone movie that rekindled the discussion of conspiracy theories surrounding President Kennedy’s murder in 1963, proposed that Lee Harvey Oswald was not the sole perpetrator behind the assassination. Mixing fact and opinion together so that one never knows when something is factual or just theorised, the film generated much publicity, most of it bad, for challenging the veracity and widely accepted beliefs surrounding the episode.

Computer generated imagery (CGI) has also been credited for stimulating much change in this aspect. Jurassic Park, for example, forever changed the way that audiences viewed dinosaurs. Not only were they living and breathing at a cinema near you, they could be found in the most innocuous places, like the kitchen. Yet, this is exactly what history should be doing – challenging our deep-seated views of the world and questioning why and if we should hang onto them.

History has also been largely characterised as an exercise carried out by white, middle-class men to legitimise “the ideologies of the group or class in power”. While historians may contest this view, the fact that minorities were marginalised in the recordings of history can hardly be ignored. How many ‘Histories of the World’ include information regarding women, racial minorities, children, people with mental and physical disabilities or those that have sexual orientations that veer off the straight and narrow path?

This is one area in which historical films are definitely better than their written counterparts, which are essentially “the fruit of past politics”. Through historical films, international audiences have been introduced to past events and people that they would otherwise never have known about or been interested in. These films have also helped give a voice and face to the discriminated groups – an opportunity that was mostly denied to them by written history. They offer a different outlook on situations that have generally been perceived in certain ways. Empire of the Sun is a good example of this. Set in Shanghai before the start of World War II, the films tells the tale of a young British boy’s survival in a Japanese prisoner-of-war (POW) camp. The number of films made about the war and imprisonment in an internment camp are countless, but only Life is Beautiful comes to mind as a possible alternative also offering a child’s perspective on life during the war.

Yet this issue of showcasing the “[other’s side of the story]” also brings with it certain baggage that needs to be addressed. Considerations such as how best to present as balanced a view as possible and whether it is possible for a person outside the marginalised group to identify with and portray accurately the sentiments felt by them need to be thought through.

In a related topic, historical films can be used to effect that history does not always have to be about certain noteworthy (and usually heroic and patriotic) individuals or a medium that limits its recordings to events and not ordinary people also affected by the happenings. While the possibility exists that the historical film can become more about the individual and forget totally about the story’s historical significance (just one word: Titanic), it can also use that person to symbolically represent an entire group. As unlikely an example as a historical film as it may be, Rambo: First Blood Part II effectively illustrates this. Through John Rambo’s heroic (and not at all over-the-top) rescue of imprisoned POWs, he comes to represent the forgotten Vietnam War veterans. Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin and October also use this technique to much acclaim.

Like the ordinary folk, everyday life, landscapes and emotions are not points usually covered in most histories. Although it remains unknown how these qualifications arose, history has predominantly been about ‘famous’ people and written in a manner that leads many to believe that it should always be rational and based on clear-headed thinking. What about the womenfolk who wait patiently for their husbands and sons to return home from war and the strength of the common folk to continue going on, whatever the circumstances? Are these histories not important too? Thankfully, historical films are attempting to fill in these gaps left by written histories.

Besides presenting everyday life, historical films, in their capacity as a visual medium, allow us to “see landscapes, hear sounds, witness strong emotions as they are expressed with body and face, or view physical conflict between individuals and groups.” The evocative geographic landscape in We were Soldiers, the restrained yet passionate emotions of Joan in La Passion de Joanne D’Arc and the ordinariness of the lives of the Germans in Heimat as they experienced world events are just some examples. One has only to imagine writing down everything one sees in a scene in a historical film and compare it to its written likeness to understand the potential of historical films to present a more detailed and yet broader view of history. Thus, this presents us with the idea that history can be more than just about important events and people.

Through historical films, we can discover that there are always reasons for making a film or writing a history. Whatever the reasons, personal, political, artistic or otherwise, they show us that everything, be it a film or a written work, has an agenda. This is easily seen through interviews with the filmmakers and actors in the film. Sometimes, the message in the historical film is overtly didactic. Usually though, we do not notice the subliminal messages until we actively go and search for them, hidden as they are in plot and thematic developments. While Leni Riefenstahl may dispute the fact until the cameras stop rolling, it is widely believed that her 1935 film, Triumph of the Will, was a propaganda tool. The film served to portray the Nazis in a very favourable and attractive light and thus appealed to viewers, resulting in many of them “a close-minded acceptance of a set of ideas or assumptions” about Nazism. Therefore, as evident through historical films, we should stop ourselves from taking everything represented in written histories as the gospel truth and reflect for a while on the motivations behind them and how they influence the outcome of the product.

Postmodern theorists have been arguing that history is more about the present than the past. They substantiate their claims through the fact that written history itself is dictated by the period in which it is written. History being a selective process, the historian chooses, sometimes subconsciously, issues and events that are a reflection of the times at which the prose is written. This can be seen through the grammar and vocabulary used in the written work. Indeed, what one may deem as noteworthy at a certain point in time, another person from a different period in time may think frivolous. Thus, it can be proposed that “all pasts are constructions made out of the present”.

Historical films elucidate this depiction of both the past and the filmmaker’s present quite clearly and explicitly. The many filmic treatments of Joan of Arc over the years, in different languages, come to mind immediately as an excellent example. While different films on the subject may vary, each of these films definitely has the definitive moment where Joan is burnt at the stake. Just by looking at the various interpretations by the filmmakers of the scene, one gets the impression that each of them is highlighting different things. As the years pass, there is a noticeable change in what the filmmakers perceive to be crucial thematically to the plot. Issues relating to feminism and adolescent problems (including teenage rebellion) are increasingly present in the later film versions. In La Passion de Joanne D’Arc, for example, Joan seems to accept her fate stoically, without much of fight. Yet in The Messenger, Joan is portrayed as a brave and fearless, though slightly psychotic, warrior who battles to the very end. Moulin Rouge and The French Lieutenant’s Woman are also historical films that play with the past and present, mixing them up to simultaneously confound and intrigue the audience.

But all this talk about historical films is boring. In fact, it eerily resembles written history. Perhaps, history turns people off because it takes itself too seriously. The common perception of history is that it should always be discussed in hushed, reverent and formal tones and involve gigantic tomes of books that need to have the dust blown off their covers. Yet interestingly, historical films continue to pull the crowds in at cinemas. So what’s the explanation for this?

Historical films, like Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (yes it can considered as one) and Raiders of the Lost Ark, are funny. Although they still present a view on past events, they recapture the moments in laughs and jokes. This opens up the possibility that history might not always have to be so uptight about itself and maybe can take a leaf out of the book of The Great Dictator. When did history get associated with formality and a no-nonsense sort of attitude? Can history not be funny and informal while simultaneously recording the past?

Nevertheless, for all their virtues, historical films are not perfect. In some ways, they pale in comparison to their written counterparts. It is impossible to cram in as much information in a two-hour film as a 500 page history book can. With a “world that moves at an unrelenting twenty-four frames a second”, there is not much time for one to reflect during a film. Before one can formulate a thought about something that interested him/her, the next scene draws his attention away from his/her earlier surmise.

But let’s not get too picky. We have to learn sooner or later that we just cannot compare historical films with written history because they essentially tell the same story, only in different ways. Instead of setting them up as opposites, historical films should start to be recognised as being of equal importance as written history. This perception of historical films scares people, especially to historians, because it potentially changes the ways that we view history. In fact, by presenting new ways to think about the past, historical films could be revolutionising and altering forever our relationship with the past. But who says change has to be a bad thing?

Bibliography
Cohen, K. (ed.), Writing in a Film Age: Essays by Contemporary Novelists (Colorado, 1991).
Davis, N.Z., ““Any Resemblance to Persons Living or Dead”: Film and the Challenge of Authenticity,” Yale Review, vol. 76(4) (1987), pp. 452-82.
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Hughes-Warrington, M., “Leni Riefenstahl: A Life in Black and White?,” Teaching History (September 2000), pp. 26-33
Hughes-Warrington, M., “Polyphonic Histories,” unpublished ms, 2001.
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Lowenthal, D., The Past is a Foreign Country (Cambridge, 1988).
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Rosenstone, R.A., Visions of the Past: The Challenge of Film to Our Idea of History (Massachusetts and London, 2000).
Scott, J., “History in Crisis? The Others’ Side of the Story,” American Historical Review, vol. 94(3) (1989), pp. 680-92.
Tosh, J., The Pursuit of History: Aims, Methods and New Directions in the Study of Modern History (2nd ed.) (New York, 1991).

In Search of ‘Gooks’:
The Representation of the Vietnamese in Hollywood Vietnam Films

Although almost three decades have lapsed since the last Marine helicopter left the United States embassy in Saigon, the Vietnam War remains etched in the minds of millions of Americans, who seem unable to accept the defeat to their technologically-inferior Asian foes. That the war generated such an indelible impression in many can be seen in the number of Hollywood films that have been created regarding it.

Films have always had the power to influence viewers into subconsciously accepting certain discourses that the filmmaker, consciously or otherwise, includes in the films. This is glaringly apparent in the Hollywood versions of the Vietnam War, where the American soldiers bravely battle against the nameless and ruthless Vietnamese. This essay intends to expand further on this idea through a critical analysis of three Vietnam films, Apocalypse Now, Good Morning, Vietnam and Rambo: First Blood Part II, and concentrate on how the Vietnamese are portrayed in Hollywood Vietnam films.

It is argued that historical films, of which the Vietnam films belong to, cannot fully replicate past events, however much they attempt to capture the “‘spirit of a period’”. But this does not imply that history itself is then capable of perfectly reconstructing the past. Instead, history essentially consists of a historian selecting information he thinks is most relevant to arguing his stand.

Nevertheless, historical films are becoming recognised as the most effective and usually, the only way that audiences are introduced to historical events, outside of the history textbook. Therefore, they play a crucial role in shaping the audiences’ knowledge about historical events and indirectly, their views of the people involved in them, especially when they come from other cultures and countries. Through the films, the audiences form impressions of these other people that they have not yet, and might not ever, meet and interact with. Therefore, films have an obligation to represent the truth as accurately as possible.

Yet, historical films often advocate certain views on past events. The depiction of the war in Vietnam, which lasted from 1965 to 1975, by American filmmakers, is a good example. Depending on whom one speaks to, the war is defined differently. In Vietnam, the locals call it the American War, while in the United States (and almost all of the rest of the world due mainly to Hollywood’s pervasiveness), it is the Vietnam War. For the purposes of this essay, it shall be referred to by its American term.

So how does one define Vietnam and her people in a Vietnam film? If one relies purely on the dominant Hollywood definition, Vietnam would be characterised by tall coconut trees swaying in the breeze at sunset as the local folk, dressed mainly in blue, brown or white and with their ubiquitous conical hats on, till the padi fields and use sampans to cross the rivers in the country. Members of the Vietcong, however, would not be depicted so saintly and gentle. They are usually very dirty, tanned and sweaty; dressed in army fatigues and are never given the opportunity to present the war and its consequences from their point of view. Even the South Vietnamese, who were the United States’ ally in the war, do not fare much better in mainstream Hollywood Vietnam films.

Apocalypse Now epitomises the representation of the Vietnamese in Vietnam films best with their almost total absence in the entire film. Francis Ford Coppola, the director, was ironically quoted as saying, “Apocalypse Now is not a movie about Vietnam. My movie is Vietnam.” Interestingly, Coppola was referring to Vietnam, not as the country, but as the experience of the United States troops in the country. Yet, Coppola seems to forget this important element of the ‘other side’ in his film, preferring to focus instead mainly on Captain Williard’s (Martin Sheen) journey to seek out Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando), whom he must kill “with extreme prejudice”.

In one of the first scenes, Kurtz is heard in a tape recording as saying, “We must kill them [the North Vietnamese], we must incinerate them, pig after pig, cull after cull.” Although this can be regarded as essentially only Kurtz’s opinion of the Vietcong, it nevertheless dehumanises them, who were also fighting for what they believed in, like the Americans. It is natural for antagonism to be felt by one’s enemy, but the quote in the film, when taking into consideration film’s ideological powers, perpetuates and bolsters the opinion of how horrible the Vietcong are, positioning the audience even more against these people.

After receiving orders from his superiors to exterminate Kurtz, Williard contemplates his mission. He reflects that although he has killed six people before (presumably Vietnamese), it would be different killing Kurtz, who is also American. Is the underlying message that it is easier to kill a Vietnamese than an American? Is a Vietnamese person’s life worth less than an American? One cannot help but grasp such a disturbing notion from the scene.

The local Vietnamese are depicted in Apocalypse Now as being rather passive and helpless, with the American soldiers disrespectful of them. They are easily shocked and scared, with some of them falling off a boat while fishing when Johnson (Sam Bottoms), one of the American soldiers, laughingly skis close to their vessel. Could the director be positioning the Vietnamese so that they appear cowardly, jumping at the slightest provocation? This idea of the Vietnamese not being respected is further developed when Lieutenant Colonel Kilgore (Robert Duvall) nonchalantly throws playing cards on the bodies of the dead Vietcong fighters. He also leaves an injured Vietcong fighter he was tending to halfway when he realises that Johnson, a famous surfer, is in his midst. This scant disregard for the Vietnamese, be they friends or foes, reinforces the already antagonistic sentiments most American audiences would have towards the Vietnamese, even before viewing this film.

As in most Vietnam films, the Vietnamese in Apocalypse Now are referred to derogatorily as ‘gooks’ by the American soldiers. Although this nickname may have originated from the actual war and thus add authenticity to the portrayal of the troops, it is nevertheless insulting and dehumanises the Vietnamese to being mere cariacatures. Throughout the film, the Vietnamese are also called ‘f***-ing savages’ and ‘motherf***ers’ by Kilgore and the American soldiers.

Another interesting view of how the Vietnamese are represented in the film is noticeable through the use of camera angles. As the helicopters swoop in to bomb a suspected Vietcong-friendly village, the Vietnamese villagers are shot visually top-down, from the point of view of the soldiers in the helicopters. While they appear “faceless and tiny” because of the camera angle used, the camera zooms in to focus specifically on one injured American soldier. Thus, the film not only marginalises the Vietnamese through inaccurate and stereotypical portrayals and Vietnamese-unfriendly dialogue, but also through the choice of camera angles employed.

The only time in the film where the Vietcong are highly regarded is when Kurtz tells Williard why he admired them. He relates an incident where the Americans had innoculated children in a Vietnamese village. The Vietcong, not trusting the Americans’ intentions, hacked off the arms of the children in an instance of extreme paranoia. He explained that it took mettle and conviction to be able to act in such a manner. Ironically, through Kurtz’s explanation of his admiration of the Vietcong, the audience would undoubtedly be repulsed by the extreme actions of the Vietnamese and align themselves against such savage behaviour.

In all the battles in the film, the American soldiers manage to win every time, provoking in the audience a “victorious rush”. The Vietnamese, armed only with guns and sheer determination, are simply no match to the technologically-superior American soldiers. Therefore although historically the United States lost the Vietnam War, the past seems to have been rewritten in this film, with them winning every encounter with the Vietnamese. Those in the audience unfamiliar with the history of the war might be thus misled into falsely thinking that the United States was actually victorious.

Rambo: First Blood Part II is another film that attempts to rewrite the Vietnam War to “create the illusion that the U.S. won the battle and in a sense the war.” This is evident through the apparent ease with which John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) destroys a prisoner-of-war (POW) camp, defeats a band of corrupt Vietnamese pirates and bombs a peaceful Vietnamese village in which the enemies (the Vietnamese and the Russians) are searching for him. Is this revision of the past an attempt to increase its palatability and marketability amongst American audiences by allowing them to “win this time”, at the expense of distorting the truth?

Interestingly, unlike most Vietnam films, there is a female Vietnamese supporting actress in Rambo. Co (Julia Nickson) is an agent from an unspecified intelligence agency who aids Rambo in his quest to find the missing American POWs in Vietnam. Though she speaks relatively good English, she is characteristically of mixed parentage, with dark brown hair and eyes, to appeal to both Asian and American audiences. Why was an ethnic Vietnamese woman not chosen? Would audiences find it difficult to imagine a purely Vietnamese lady helping Rambo? While Co is portrayed primarily as the token romantic interest in the film, her role is actually representative of Vietnamese women, of whom a significant number were actively engaged in combat during the Vietnam War. Nevertheless, her allegiance to Vietnam is questionable when she reveals to Rambo her desire to migrate to the United States where she can “live the quiet life”. Is this depiction an accurate reflection of the sentiments of Vietnamese in general? Unfortunately, once she serves her purpose of furthering the plot, she is killed off.

However, the other Vietnamese women in Rambo do not fare much better either. They are mainly prostitutes, dressed stereotypically in short, tight cheongsams with long hair down their backs. This feeds directly into the Western male’s fantasy of exotic Asian women, who live only to pleasure men. By perpetuating this stereotype, it builds up in ignorant audiences an unrealistic expectation that all Asian women (especially Vietnamese) fit neatly into this mould.

While the Vietnamese women in Rambo are prostitutes, the men are corrupt pirates and North Vietnamese. Significantly, almost every single Vietnamese pirate is tanned, rather scruffy-looking and has a moustache. This creates an almost instinctive desire to distance oneself apart from them. Depicted as being mercenary and misogynistic, they are not very likeable. Thus they do not gain much sympathy from the audience when Rambo single-handedly kills all (except one, whom Co killed) of them. Would the portrayal of the pirates been more balanced had they been Anglo-Saxon?

The North Vietnamese enemies, however, are the most “stereotyped as [dehumanised] others” in the film. Not only does their dressing resemble World War II Japanese soldiers, they lock the POWs in a bamboo cage. They also torture Rambo so harshly that Lieutenant Colonel Podovsky, who leads the Russian contingency aiding the North Vietnamese remarks, “These people are so vulgar in their methods.” Such a one-dimensional depiction of the North Vietnamese means that the audience would find it difficult to relate to them at all and would be rooting for Rambo instead.

Out of the three films, Good Morning, Vietnam presents the most balanced view of the Vietnamese, to the point of patronising them to a certain extent. While the other two films centred around combat in the jungle, Good Morning, Vietnam revolves around American radio deejay, Adrian Cronauer (Robin Williams), who brings irreverence and fun to the airwaves in Saigon, Vietnam.

In the film, there has been a considerable attempt to replicate Saigon in the early 1960s – the road-side stallholders sell vegetables, food and flowers; children chase chickens and people travel by tuk-tuks. The prerequisite young Vietnamese women dressed in their national costume, the ao dai, and the friendly Vietnamese girls in the pub, Jimmy Wah’s (with the camera slowly panning across their thighs and rears) present an exotic and mysterious view of Saigon, playing once again into the Western males’ fantasy involving them. This stereotypical and rather sexist view of the Vietnamese women as objects of lust is epitomised by Cronauer’s enthusiastic pronouncement on first sighting them, “They’re quick, they’re fast, they’re small. I feel like a fox in a chicken coop.” From the quote, it is evident that these women’s appeal partly lies in their seeming ability to allow the Western male to show off his masculine side by protecting them. This inaccurate portrayal of Vietnamese women creates in audiences an idealised view of them as being the perfect submissive little woman, leading some western men to marry Vietnamese women based on this idea. However, this unrealistic fantasy is shattered when they discover that the women are actually quite feisty in real life. Unable to cope with this revelation, there have been a number of documented cases of spousal abuse.

In Good Morning, Vietnam, Cronauer befriends a young Vietnamese boy, Tuan (Tung Tranhtran). Their relationship soon develops into a true friendship, with Cronauer even calling Tuan his best friend. Through Tuan, the audience gets an insight into the Vietnamese viewpoint on certain subjects. Tuan is initially reluctant to introduce Cronauer to Trinh (Chinatara Sukapatara), his sister, as he believes that Cronauer will act like the other “phony” French and American men, who deceive impressionable Vietnamese girls into sexual relationships by winning them over with fast cars. This interestingly provides audiences with an alternative point of view on the situation that may be merely perceived as an attempt to get acquainted with a girl in western societies. Cronauer, through his friendship with Tuan, is also introduced to Vietnamese culture – he visits Tuan’s village; goes on a date with Trinh in the traditional Vietnamese style (with almost her entire family as chaperone); and tries out road-side hawker fare. Without the sustenance of their friendship in the film, the audience would be unable to see the more humanitarian side of the Vietnamese.

Unfortunately, Tuan turns out to be involved with the Vietcong. Cronauer is devastated to learn the truth and feels betrayed, but the audience does not completely hate Tuan as he saved Cronauer’s life once before. Moreover, in one of the rare instances in Vietnam films, Tuan presents the reasons behind his involvement with the Vietcong. “Enemy, what is enemy?... We not the enemy, you the enemy!” He recites the list of family and friends, including his mother and elder brother, killed by the Americans “Why? Because we are not human to them, we’re only … enemies.” Through this outburst, the audience is offered a rare glimpse of the war from the Vietcong perspective.

Nevertheless, the representation of Vietnamese in the film is not perfect. Always smiling and friendly, the Vietnamese appear easily amused by the slightest things – learning how to slang and swear the American way and play softball. This patronising view of the Vietnamese attempts so hard to portray them as non-threatening to the extent that it reduces them to being simple-minded people, readily embracing whatever American culture has to offer to them. Although the Vietnamese characters in the film are not fleshed out as complexly as would be preferred, their roles, in terms of character development and screen time, are still much more substantial compared to the other two films.

It is thus quite obvious, through the analyses of the three films, that there is a considerable dearth in accuracy and amount of representation of Vietnamese in Vietnam films. Possible reasons for this shortage could be due to the films’ underlying propaganda purpose to “boost morale…promote the necessity of sacrifice…bring the nation together or to vilify the enemy” or marketability problems with having Vietnamese in leading roles. However, there is also a lack of films about the war from Vietnamese filmmakers, possibly due to distribution and budgeting problems and a rather strict political environment. Balanced representations of both the Americans and Vietnamese in these films will only be achieved when the filmmaker is willing to accord equal amounts of respect to both sides’ interpretation of the war. Until this happens, the Vietnam films will continue to follow the vein best exemplified by Williard’s critical analysis of the Vietnam War, “We’d cut them [the Vietnamese] in half with a machine gun and give them a band aid.”

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my forrest gump essay for hist243

A Historical and Historiographical Film Review of Forrest Gump

The story is simple enough: Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks), an intellectually-challenged boy from Greenbow, Alabama in the United States, makes it big through sheer hard work and a little help from Lady Luck. Along the way, he chances upon various momentous events in post-war America. He teaches Elvis Presley how to swivel his hips, shows former President Johnson his innocuously-positioned bullet wound and helps to notify the security guards at the Watergate building about the infamous break-in, amongst other things. However, the one thing that evades him to the very end is his true love Jenny Curran (Robin Wright), who is relentless in her pursuit of freedom.

After the film premiered in 1994, it was a spectacular box-office hit. Not only were the audiences lapping up every bit of Forrest Gump, the judges at the Academy Awards also showed their favour by awarding it six Oscars at the 1995 ceremony. This testament to its critical and mainstream appeal has made it an enduring modern classic.

The film owes its success partly to its innovative (at that time) use of computer-generated imagery (CGI). The depiction of Lieutenant Dan Taylor (Gary Sinise), who lost his legs during the Vietnam War; the amazing table tennis skills displayed by Forrest Gump; and the various meetings that Forrest Gump has with three former Presidents and celebrities, along with the other CGI sequences in the film, are integral to its plot. Without them, it would have been a very different story.

While the special effects were indeed impressive (the film did win the Academy Award for Best Visual Effects), they undoubtedly will “further rupture relations between the screen image and the real material world.”

Why does this prospect both frighten and excite movie-goers and those in the film industry? With CGI, filmmakers have been able to create realistic and believable sequences that were only imaginable in the past. The only limitations – their imagination and the film budget. Moreover, CGI allows them the opportunity to eradicate mistakes and accentuate backdrops in films. This translates into an even better viewing experience for an audience always eager for bigger and noisier special effects.

Yet, others are wary of the “possibility that this technology [CGI] might one day produce images that are so realistic it is impossible to distinguish them from objects in the real world.” This argument is especially relevant to the film at hand. The seamless weaving of Forrest Gump’s meetings with important political and entertainment personalities during actual filmed events has been likened to the misappropriation of primary evidence. The fear is that those in the audience ignorant of world events might be misled into thinking that the meetings did really happen. However, I believe that the majority of film-goers will be able to discern the difference between fact and fiction.

Actually, how important is it to know if a scene is digitally altered? I think the main objective in people’s minds when they watch a film is to be entertained and not to ascertain if a certain scene is indeed enhanced by CGI.

Another contentious issue regarding CGI in the film is why it was chosen over the use of look-alikes, as in the scene where Forrest Gump teaches an Elvis Presley impersonator to dance. Such a method, although cheaper, would definitely not have been as realistic and clever as CGI. The CGI effects in the film might have caused some in the audience to do a double take when seeing Forrest Gump at certain milestone events, but it was nevertheless impressive and a pioneer in doing so.

In the film, most of the CGI sequences are used in flashbacks, as Forrest Gump relates his tale to those waiting for the bus. Through the flashbacks, audiences are able to remember the past as the flashbacks not only “give us images of memory, the personal archives of the past, they also give us images of history, the shared and recorded past.”

Interestingly, historical events, like the anti-war protest at the Mall in Washington D.C, unfold in the background of the flashback sequences. While the emphasis is on the storyline, the film’s producers have ingeniously used these events as a timeline to chart Forrest Gump’s progress over the years. For example, the passage of time is visible through the changes in the United States’ presidency. All of these events have been strategically chosen such that the audience can tell when they occurred and the order in which they took place.

Nevertheless, this method, though ingenious, is vulnerable to criticism. As the film deals with past events, it is impossible to completely recreate the scenes as they would have happened at that moment. The film manages generally to achieve this, as Forrest Gump is usually at the event as it occurs.

However, one interesting anachronism I discovered dealt with Forrest Gump’s appearance on The Dick Cavett Show with John Lennon, where the former appears to provide the inspiration for Lennon’s single ‘Imagine’. Tom Hanks has gone on record as saying that he wanted Forrest Gump to only be in events that actually occurred. But when John Lennon did indeed appear on the talk show in 1971, it was to promote the aforementioned single. Thus, the actual event and the CGI scene were one of the few unsynchronised historical events in the film.

The music in the film, fortunately, could not be similarly faulted. Not only were the producers in tune with what was popular at that time, they cleverly chose songs that contained “intertextual jokes and puns”. It was ironic, for instance, that the United States’ national anthem, The Star-Spangled Banner, plays in the background as Forrest Gump alerts the security guards to the Watergate burglary.

One major event that Forrest Gump participates in is the Vietnam War. Noticeably, there is a “careful ambivalence about the turmoil of the 1960s” in the film. All the quotes about the war by Forrest Gump are non-political and non-judgemental – “We would take these real long walks and we were always looking for this guy named Charlie…The good thing about Vietnam was there was always some place to go … and there was always something to do.”

The film’s director, Robert Zemeckis, intentionally did this as he wanted to “present this generation without commenting on it or taking a position or explaining it.” Was this done to reflect Forrest Gump’s character, who is often ignorant about his surroundings, or was it purely a commercial decision by the producers to appeal to as wide an audience as possible?

While Forrest Gump remains noncommittal on touchy issues like the Vietnam War, Jenny is his direct opposite, taking a stand on almost every major development that occurs. She embodies everything that Forrest Gump is not, in a countercultural manner. Such a contrast effectively offers the audience the opportunity to view and understand the historical events from differing perspectives and come to their own conclusions.

Unfortunately, the anti-war protesters’ characters are not as fleshed out as the two leads. They are portrayed one-dimensionally, as if their only purpose in the film is to provide some laughs and an opportunity for Forrest Gump to meet with Jenny again. The audience is shown the tough decisions the protesters had to make for the cause they believed in and thus cannot relate to them. This shallow depiction of the protesters just perpetuates the stereotypical view of the protesters as free-loving hippies and directionless young people.

In general, however, the depiction of the various historical scenes is quite accurate. The film producers successfully manage to evoke the different eras through well-chosen clothing, make-up and settings. Why is it so important to get all the details correct? Would the film be lesser without this thorough dedication to historically-accurate detail?

The lack of detail might affect the atmosphere of the film in helping to conjure up an image of the past quickly. But is history not just an interpretation of the past, dependent on the person doing the inferring? Therefore, there is no one correct view of history and no exact object that must be included in a scene or attitude that must be held from that time period.

Although the film has been unique in managing to attract audiences across the different age groups, its target audience is most probably the generation of 69 million baby boomers in the United States, who were born between 1943 and 1960. As most of the dramatic highlights in the film occurred in the 1960s and early 1970s, it is a nostalgic trip down memory lane for this generation.

Why did the film’s producers decided to centre most of the story around this period, when they could easily have also focussed in on incidents at other times, such as the relationship between Jenny and Forrest Gump in the 1980? Baby boomers are generally not considered to be the largest or most frequent demographic of film audiences, so why this catering to them? Furthermore, it is noted that the film differed quite significantly from the book, Forrest Gump by Winston Groom, on which it was based. How did the producers decide which historical events from the book to include in the film?

The questions I have raised and tried to answer are just the tip of the iceberg for a richly detailed historical film like Forrest Gump. However, I think more importantly, we should be thinking about what lessons we can learn from this charming movie about a simple boy who believed in love and never gave up. “And that’s all I have to say about that.”

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