Manderlay

7 out of 7

Lars von Trier’s second film, Manderlay, out of what may yet prove to be an amazing trilogy is an exploration into the psychical affects of oppression.

Von Trier, who has been criticized for making a film about racism in America, though he’s never visited, hits at a very sensitive spot in our collective conscience as he points out that our racism was not (and is not) a black and white issue (pun fully intended).

The story tells of how Grace Margaret Mulligan (Bryce Dallas Howard), while traveling with her father and his “men” (her father is obviously a mob boss of some sort) discovers the small plantation of Manderlay, which has never been emancipated, even though the Emancipation Proclamation occurred 70 years prior (the film is set in the 1930’s South). Grace, whose name may be a little too heavy-handed, storms the plantation (with the backing of her father’s men and their guns…you know, just how Jesus did it) and demands that all the slaves be let free at once. Mam (Lauren Bacall), the aging and dying matriarch of Manderlay, tries feebly to explain, but passes before any clarity can be shed on the situation. What follows is the tenuous negotiations between Mam’s heirs and Grace and her men. Grace lobbies that the slaves be given equal share of the plantation and, in order to secure justice, she decides to stay, taking half of her father’s men with her for security. She also places the heirs (former oppressors) into a form of bondage, making them take on the roles that they had previously demanded from the slaves.

The rest of the film traces this newly-freed community as they work through the spring and summer to bring about a successful crop of cotton. They work through a dust storm and learn how to use the democratic process to right wrongs and bring about justice. The process is difficult, but they do make it to the fall, where they sell their cotton at a record price and all share in the wealth equally.

Yet, not all is well (nor would von Trier be criticized if this were the entirety of the film), as the former slaves begin to show their true colors (pun not intended that time) after Grace’s men leave. All along, throughout the film, Grace read Mam’s old journal, which detailed exactly how to keep slaves in check and ranks them on a 1-7 scale, with each number being some different type of insulting ranking. Reading this journal enrages Grace and she spends much of the time trying to systematically correct the systematic wrongs in the journal. At the end of the film, however, the viewer discovers that the conditions of the plantation were intentionally constructed as they were, not by Mam, but by Mam and Wilhelm (Danny Glover), the oldest slave, after both decided many years ago that the Emancipation Proclamation was not necessarily advantageous to everyone. Furthermore, Wilhelm now explains that Grace must take on the role of Mam and be the enslaver that she fought so hard against. This plot twist only gets resolved after Grace flees Manderlay for Washington D.C. and, assumably, the third installment of the trilogy.

This film vexed me much after watching it (and nearly destroyed my friends Ben and Karen, who had so nicely agreed to watch it with me), until I read an article by Karen Lebacqz titled “Implications for a Theory of Justice.” This article, with which I strongly disagree, claims that “It is the stories of injustice as experienced by the victims that count.” The basic thesis of the article is that injustice is only corrected when the oppressed are given a voice. With this voice, assumably, they will be able to tell both what is wrong and how to correct it. As Lebacqz writes, “This means that justice begins with stories of injustice….” Indeed, this is exactly what Grace tries to work out in Manderlay, a fact made even more obvious by the existence of a journal (story) of how to oppress. Grace has the story of the oppression, she has the physical power to bring about justice, she has a captive audience (pun kind of intended), simply put, Grace has everything she needs to bring about justice and yet, the story goes as it does.

What I will contend, in lieu of a narratological approach to justice is that being oppressed does not end when that which is oppressing is removed (be it law, slave owner, etc…). Rather, oppression, like any other repeated and enforced habit, causes a certain psychical affect on the oppressed (please forgive the use of a Freudian term, applied to a pre-Freudian time). Indeed, most liberal philosophy holds that much of a person’s identity, ethics, and reality stem not from some ordained holy place, nor from some universal understanding running throughout humankind, but from the particular time and place in which a person finds oneself. If this is true, if our society is that impressive on our minds and actions, then allowing those who’ve been in a society of injustice create a society of justice, will inevitably just recreate a society of injustice – the formerly oppressed can know no different.

I, however, tend to fall somewhere in between these two views. I would certainly contend that oppression is real (and wrong) and that our surroundings and specific histories have influence on us. I would not contend, however, that these histories have influence over us, as there must still exist some kernel of the created order in even the most harshly oppressed.

The beauty of von Trier’s film is that he pokes back at some of our preconceived notions of how to bring about justice from our former oppression (notions that are reflected in Lebacqz article) and asks if there might be a better way than the current path. Of course, here is where the film gets real nasty, as it implies that most (if not all) African-Americans are still enslaved, but this time because of some implicit agreement between slave and owner that, while never articulated, still runs rampant through the course of recent history. It also fails to recommend an answer after deconstructing the current problem. Yet, maybe that would just be too much for one film.

Often times, a story that is addressing some cultural lie (or myth) can do no more than point out that it is indeed a lie/myth. Only after the art has served to open the eyes and hearts of the viewers can a solution be sought.

I highly recommend this film for any one who thinks about race issues (and that is pretty much everyone).