The relationship between reality, history and narrative form

The relationship between realism or historical accuracy and narrative form is a problematic one, with ethical issues arising in works that perpetuate an image of realism.
Cinematic representations of real events subvert history, and it is by understanding the filmmakers intentions, that we can understand the ‘reality’ with which we have been presented.
It is arguable that subjectivity is inevitable and unavoidable within films, even those which aim to retell or capture reality objectively.
Documentaries are an editing of the truth, and Austin observes that the real world ‘exceeds the borders of any film’1, or as Felperin suggests, ‘documentaries, can only capture a slice of a larger story which can never be wholly contained by a feature length film.’2
The ambiguity in Capturing The Friedmans offers the audience the opportunity to interact with the film, the marketable value in this not lost on the films distributors. The tagline, ‘who will you believe?’, alludes to the feeling that it is the viewer who will ultimately decide what the truth is, the viewer who is the judge and jury, and that within the film we are led to come to our own conclusions.3 This marketing of the film, almost as a mystery, or thriller4, could be said to be irresponsible and at the expense of the victims whose story is being told, turning reality into entertainment. It is this ambiguity within the film which in some respects, makes the realism less than convincing; we never truly discover whether Arnold and Jesse, the alleged abusers, are guilty of the crimes they are jailed for. Audiences are often unaccepting of ambiguity, preferring a explicit and clear explanation, but the ambiguity here is the device through which the narrative thrives.
Capturing The Friedmans, like so many other or arguably all documentaries, provides access to events but through a subjective lense. Upon closer examination of the film, and the elements of the story not included, it becomes clear we are not offered the full picture, the view of the story and the characters we are given manipulated. Seth Friedman declined to appear in the film, leading director Andrew Jarecki to mostly exclude footage which showed Seth. This surely suggests that the account we are presented with is altered and edited from reality, causing the reliability of the information to be called into question. The portrayal of the alleged victims and police officers disturbs the neutrality and unbias of the film, often combined through editing with conflicting and contradictory images or testimonies, with another of Friedman’s students dismissing the accusations as a ‘grotesque fantasy.’5 Although the tagline of the film suggests the verdict is left to the viewer, it becomes clear that Jarecki’s editing techniques work in favour of the Friedman’s innocence, despite admittances from Arnold of his paedophilia.
In making the film Jarecki had to make sense of and condense ‘a seesaw of conflicting narratives and contradictory versions of the truth’6, admitting himself that “while not everyone in this film tells the truth, I don’t find most of them to be consciously lying about anything.”7
The police investigation into the Friedman’s is portrayed, perhaps fairly, as a witch-hunt, with experts condemning the hypnosis techniques used to gain evidence from the alleged victims, and absolutely no physical evidence provided in the case.8 As we never actually view the alleged abuse within the film, it is hard to imagine these moments in the same reality as the moments we are shown, such as home videos of happier Friedman family moments, and this perhaps goes some way to shaping our opinions of the truth. Although the aesthetic of home video can subtly make ‘implicit claims to.. veracity and integrity’9 through amateur techniques that suggest more of a focus on depicting reality than creating masterful films, Orgeron notes that ‘home videographers have already made a pre-emptive directorial intervention by... representational decisions, inclusions as well as exclusions.. these decisions impact.. the documentaries that employ this footage.’10 Austin notes that the filmmakers have been criticised for ‘prioritising dramatic imperatives over honesty and accuracy’11, and this suggests a criticism that the documentary is more a piece of entertainment than factual filmmaking. Rich argues that in trying to obtain commercial success, ‘documentary itself sometimes seen to be mutating into a new hybrid phase altogether, the “docutainment,” which offers newly marketable pleasures to a fiction-sated audience: Capturing the Friedmans, say..’12
The issue of exploitation of factual material to produce entertainment is one that is also relevant in discussing Makhmalbaf’s The Apple. The film depicts the story of neglect of two young girls with the air of a documentary, and like many Iranian films, its ‘narrative premise is anchored in a true occurrence’13, using the actual people involved to retell the story. The repercussions in ‘remaking’ real life, the ethical risk of exploiting people’s suffering, become evident when the father of the girls, reading of the story in a newspaper, breaks down, distressed by the media coverage, ironic, as he was presumably surrounded by cameras and film crew.
A cultural imposition is put upon the relationship between reality and narrative form in Iranian cinema by modesty regulations, which mean that women may not appear on film unveiled, even within their own homes where they normally would be.14 Therefore, depictions of Iranian women on screen are unrealistic and limiting, with Makhmalbaf admitting that ‘with the enforced censorship, you must simply find new and interesting ways of expressing ideas through the vocabulary of cinema.’15
By expressing Massoumeh and Zahra’s story through the ‘vocabulary of cinema’, Makhmalbaf treats reality and history with artistic license and makes a film which is open to allegorical readings. As Austin comments of Capturing The Friedmans, so here is a ‘tension between evidentiality and aestheticisation.’16
Darznik says that The Apple is a ‘horror story in the way that only reality can be horrible’17, attributing realism to the film, but also alluding to the very fictional and mainstream genre of horror.
Supporting the idea that the film is perhaps more fictionalised than one would ascertain at first glance, Danks comments that The Apple takes its lead from films which ‘blur the distinctions between cinema and life’18 and that it ‘depicts a sensational story, and sensational stories are, whatever their cultural contexts, necessarily exaggerated versions of reality.’19 Adair agrees, saying that the film is ‘a semi-fictionalised film at that, for The Apple is not a documentary.’20 Makhmalbaf may not claim that the film is a documentary, but the film certainly stresses the point that it is based on a true story, albeit the director’s retelling of it through the ‘vocabulary of cinema’.
The reworking of history is evident in Todd Haynes’ Velvet Goldmine. The film reimagines the days of Glam Rock through queer-tinted glasses, interpreting the queer undertones and themes present in the movement and exaggerating them, altering the reality of the time into something of a fantasy. The film’s introduction announces to the audience that ‘Histories, like ancient ruins, are the fictions of empires’21, and the film’s reimagining of the 1970’s wholly upholds this suggestion. Velvet Goldmine explores the idea of images shaping queer culture and audiences, and Haynes uses reality to support an agenda, the history of the Glam Rock movement utilised to serve a function of queer wish fulfilment. DeAngelis states that Velvet Goldmine offered Haynes an opportunity to ‘queer the present, by reconstituting the notion of ‘reality’ itself through multiple juxtapositions of histories remembered, forgotten, and repressed’.22

History, reality, and narrative form are clearly inextricably linked, but their relationship is anything but clear cut. Narrative form is not a direct representation of reality but a subjective interpretation of it, and as much as it tries to struggle against that fact, it will always be the case.




Bibliography

Adair, Gilbert, “Cinema: The girl with the movie camera”, The Independent on Sunday, 27 December 1998
Austin, Thomas, “‘The most confusing tears’: home video, sex crime, and indeterminacy in Capturing the Friedmans”, Watching the World: Screen Documentary and Audiences, 2007
Becker, Snowden, “Capturing the Friedmans”, The Moving Image vol. 4 no. 1, Spring 2004, pp. 145-148
Danks, Adrian, “The House That Mohsen Built: The Films of Samira Makhmalbaf and Marzieh Meshkini”, Senses of Cinema, 2002;
Darznik, Jasmine, “Shining Rotten Apple, A horrific film that must be seen”, The Iranian, March 3 1999
DeAngelis, Michael, “The Characteristics of New Queer Filmmaking: Case Study—Todd Haynes” in Michele Aaron (ed.) New Queer Cinema: A Critical Reader, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2004; pp. 41–52
Fairweather, Kathleen, “A Family Affair: Filmmaker Andrew Jarecki Discusses How He Captured ‘The Friedmans,’” International Documentary, July 2003.
Orgeron, Marsha, “Familial Pursuits, Editorial Acts: Documentaries after the Age of Home Video”, The Velvet Light Trap no. 60, Autumn 2007; pp. 47-62
Rich, B. Ruby, “Documentary Disciplines: An Introduction”, Cinema Journal vol. 46 no. 1, Autumn 2006; pp. 108-115
Wood, Jason, “A Quick Chat with Samira Makhmalbaf”, http://kamera.co.uk

Velvet Goldmine (US/UK, Todd Haynes, 1998)

The Apple (Iran, Samira Makhmalbaf, 1999)

Capturing The Friedmans (US, Andrew Jarecki, 2003)

The 'outlaw couple film' and its place in genre

To what extent could the outlaw couple film be considered to constitute a genre with a recognisable body of narrative, thematic and stylistic conventions?

Study in terms of genre allow similarities and coherence across a body of texts to create more meaning than if we were studying a single text individually. By categorizing a film into a certain genre we allude to previous films belonging to that genre and denote some level of resemblance.
However, a genre is not only made up of the films within it and the conventions belonging to those films, there has to also be cultural assent on the subject, as Tudor says, ‘Genre is what we collectively believe it to be’.1

It is widely agreed upon that a genre is group of texts that all adhere to some, if not all, of a set of conventions, whether differing from each other in other respects. However, genre itself as a structure and the process that leads to genres being established is not so easily defined.
Historically, genres were thought of as evolving and transforming structures that could disappear as equally as new models could emerge. Later study of genre seemingly rejected these ideas as genres began to be studied in terms of continuity, disregarding innovative genres and focusing largely instead on genres that would support theories of permanence.2
Altman believes that this ‘concealment’ has been damaging to genre criticism, and discusses the process that leads to new genres emerging and evolving, and if successful, becoming established genres.
He agrees with Tudor’s argument that genre has to be culturally recognised and says that a genre becomes such when it is substantiated by an audience who ‘interpret films not as separate entities but according to generic expectations.’3
However, he argues that new ‘film cycles’ are instigated when studios or filmmakers unite new approaches or material with qualities imitated from previously profitable films. Of the number of film cycles that are initiated, the few that are successful, will after time, be substantiated as genres.4
This idea of genre as a process is illustrated, he maintains, by the ‘sliding of generic terms from adjective to noun’.5 His example is the Western, now a widely acknowledged term for a particular genre but once a describing adjective that preceded words such as ‘romance’, ‘epic’ or ‘chase film’ to describe other films. Although ‘Outlaw Couple’ as a term for a genre is certainly not a recognisable a generic label as the Western, if we study the development of the Outlaw Couple film in terms of Altman’s ‘cycle to genre’ theory, it becomes apparent that we can arguably refer to it as a genre.
As Altman explained, the cycle initiated will imitate characteristics present in previously successful films, and the Outlaw Couple film certainly does so, borrowing elements such as visual style and narrative devices from a multitude of influences. The visual style of early Outlaw Couple films was a clear continuation of the low-key, sensual style present in the film
noir of the time, with two of the first films we can refer to as ‘Outlaw Couple movies’, Gun Crazy and They Live By Night, being seen as noir films.6 The mise-en-scene of film noir is ‘despair, generated out of entrapment..’7, and the Outlaw Couple film is very much one about characters trying to escape entrapment.

The Outlaw Couple film is a division of the ‘Road movie’, a genre which has its roots in stories of epic journeys and heroic quests, and the Outlaw Couple film subverts this, making the stories they tell more character orientated 8, but ironically often with a less obvious aim or goal, the journeys often acting as an ironic metaphor for our characters’ lack of prospects – all they can do is drive.
Noted also has been the influence of Gangster films and Westerns on the Outlaw Couple film, the fleeing the law, violence and crime prevalent in these genres certainly evident, as well as the mise-en-scene of Westerns being recognisable within the films. Kolker argues that ‘whether by accident or not, Bonnie and Clyde opened up the minor country thieves variation of the gangster film into a fully fledged genre of its own.’9
Laderman also notes that the cinematography recalls John Ford, the ‘vast, formally composed landscapes which contribute greatly to the sense of liberation for this outlaw couple on the road.’10

So, it is apparent that the Outlaw Couple film certainly fulfils Altman’s ‘first step’ of initiating a new genre, by imitating already existing conventions and filmic qualities while subverting and combining them to produce something new. Neale also supports this theory of ‘genre as a process’, saying that ‘individual genres not only form part of a generic regime, but also themselves change, develop, and vary by borrowing from, and overlapping with, one another.’11

To become a genre though, this is not enough. The body of films must become substantiated as a genre, spawning new incarnations of itself and becoming part of the litany of genres emerging films borrow from. Arguably the Outlaw Couple film did this, and by looking at the history and filmography of the genre, it becomes clear how quickly conventions were established and the category emerged as a standalone genre.
Although They Live By Night is Bonnie and Clyde’s predecessor and often seen as the prototype for Outlaw Couple films, Bonnie and Clyde is the film which truly shaped the genre, its influence seen in every following Outlaw Couple film, and throughout subsequent Hollywood cinema as a whole.
Badlands, a later Outlaw Couple film, Kinder argues is so intensely influenced by Bonnie and Clyde12 it supports the idea that filmmakers seeing the potential for a new genre, began to
imitate qualities they saw in previous Outlaw Couple films, in turn creating and reinforcing the conventions of the genre. On a larger scale, Scott writes that Bonnie and Clyde has been cited as a major influence in such ‘disparate films as The Wild Bunch, The Godfather, Reservoir Dogs and The Departed’.13
This level of influence surely belongs to a film which is part of a substantiated, and well respected genre. The conventions established back then are still noticeable in more recent films which arguably belong also to the Outlaw Couple film, proving that although the films are perhaps not as abundant as they once were, the genre is still alive and thriving. Natural Born Killers, a 1994 film by Oliver Stone, is an example of a more recent film which is clearly part of the Outlaw Couple genre, with Stone even citing Bonnie and Clyde as his main influence.14 We can also see the influence of another Outlaw Couple film; our ‘couple on the run’ in Natural Born Killers, Mickey and Mallory, ‘escape’ their everyday lives after Mickey murders Mallory’s father, ‘rescuing’ her, and this bears a similarity to the plot of Badlands, in which Kit murders Holly’s father who disagreed with their relationship, before the couple go on the run.
Although there are admittedly a small number of films within the genre compared to larger generic structures such as Western, Musical, or ‘Rom-Com’, many critics still describe the group of films as belonging to an ‘Outlaw’ genre, or at least sub-genre. In an article discussing Badlands, King writes that ‘although the period of this film is recent, it works in an established “outlaw” mode made familiar by Arthur Penn and Sam Peckinpah.’ 15 Belton asserts that ‘Gun Crazy, like Lang’s You Only Live Once, They Live By Night, Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde, Malick’s Badlands and Altman’s Thieves Like Us, belongs to a sub-genre or the gangster cycle known as the “outlaw couple” film.’16 If Natural Born Killers had been made at the time Belton was writing, he arguably would have also included it in the list.

So, it is apparent that film critics believe that the Outlaw Couple film constitutes a genre. But labelling it as such assigns to it generic requirements; these being that it has a recognisable body of narrative, thematic and stylistic conventions, and it is the fulfilment of these that will determine whether the Outlaw Couple can justly be considered as a genre.

The narrative and thematic conventions of the films previously discussed follow an obvious pattern, with heterosexual couples escaping mundane lives, dissatisfaction or even prison to go on the road together, a metaphor for people outside of society rebelling against it, desiring something different than the ‘norm’. Our couples inevitably end up being the perpetrators of violence, some more willingly than others, the journeys often seeming aimless and doomed, until one or both of our outlaws are killed. The resolution almost always sees our characters inevitably punished by the society they were attempting to rebel against, the message not a particularly hopeful one for non-conformity. Showing an evolution of the genre, later Outlaw Couple films subverted elements of these narrative and thematic conventions to provide a fresh take on the genre; for example, in Natural Born Killers, our murdering couple who are arguably more evil than any previous outlaw couple, are not captured and killed, but escape, to carry on driving across the country indefinitely and even have a family, achieving the freedom previous outlaw couples have searched for but not obtained. In Thelma and Louise and The Living End, the heterosexual couple element is subverted, our couples being heterosexual female friends and a homosexual male couple, respectively. These original angles provide innovative takes on the Outlaw Couple genre, proving also that it as a genre was established enough for filmmakers to subvert, into the hybrid ‘queer road movie’. Grundmann comments that The Living End’s ‘outlaw component is fairly straightforward even as it receives a queer activist spin’17, and Sturken write that ‘Thelma and Louise can be seen as playing off the outlaw genre’s conventions’18, both films clearly a continuation of the genre.

The stylistic conventions within the Outlaw Couple genre are as recognisable as the narrative and thematic conventions just discussed: the shadowy, noir-ish cinematography - characters faces being darkened or in shadow as they speak, the bleak, Ford-esque landscapes and wildernesses, contrasted with the inevitable urban settings they must enter to steal their money - banks or factories, the visual elements borrowed from the mise-en-scene of Westerns. The ‘guns, cash and car chase’ feel of the films directly recall Westerns, and this is as recognisable stylistically as thematically. As Simmons says, ‘the visual elements of the Western find their way in.. most frequently this occurs in the form of Western Garb.. in Bonnie and Clyde Ranger Frank Hamer is dressed in a Stetson and cowboy boots.’19

The Outlaw Couple genre is unquestionably an established one with conventions that is now reincarnated and re-imagined throughout film. Although it is debatable that the genre is not as stable or renowned a genre as some previously mentioned, for example Musical or Comedy, that is arguably because these are broad terms that can cover a multitude of disparate sub-genres. The Outlaw Couple genre is much more specific, this perhaps meaning that it offers less scope, but also meaning that its conventions are far more distinguishable and precise. Although the Outlaw Couple film could be said to have limitations, it certainly constitutes a genre, and one that has an incredibly important and influential place in film history.


Bibliography
Altman, Rick, “Are Genres Stable?”, Film/Genre, London: BFI, 1999; pp. 49-68

Belton, John, “The Spatial Disorientations of Gun Crazy”, Cinema Stylists, Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1983; pp. 197-204

Biskind, Peter, “They Live By Night by Daylight”, Sight & Sound vol. 45 no. 4, Autumn 1976; pp. 218-22

Grundmann, Roy, “The Fantasies We Live By: Bad Boys in Swoon and The Living End”, Cineaste, 4, 1993; pp. 25-29

Kinder, Marsha, “The Return of the Outlaw Couple”, Film Quarterly vol. 27 no. 4, Summer 1974; pp. 2-10

King, Michael, “Badlands: Shoot first”, Jump Cut, no. 1, 1974; pp. 5-6

Kolker, Robert Philip, “Night To Day”, Sight & Sound, vol. 43 no. 4, Autumn 1974; pp. 226-239

Laderman, David, “Drifting On Empty”, Driving Visions: Exploring the Road Movie, Austin:
University of Texas Press, 2002; pp. 122-123

Neale, Steve, “Questions of Genre”, Film Genre Reader 2, ed. Barry Keith Grant, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995; pp. 159-183

Scott, A. O, “Two Outlaws, Blasting Holes in the Screen”, New York Times, December 8, 2007

Simmons, Garner, “The Generic Origins of the Bandit-Gangster Sub-Genre in the American Cinema”, Film Reader no. 3, February 1978; pp. 67-79

Sturken, Marita, Thelma & Louise, London: BFI, 2000; pp. 22-32

Tudor, Andrew, “Genre”, Film Genre Reader 2, ed. Barry Keith Grant, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995; pp. 3 -10

Badlands (US, Terence Malick, 1973)

Bonnie and Clyde (US, Arthur Penn, 1967)

Gun Crazy (US, Joseph H. Lewis, 1947)

The Living End (US, Gregg Araki, 1990)

Natural Born Killers (US, Oliver Stone, 1994)

Thelma and Louise (US, Ridley Scott, 1991)

They Live By Night (US, Nicholas Ray, 1949)

Thieves Like Us (US, Robert Altman, 1974)

You Only Live Once (US, Fritz Lang, 1937)