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Beyond the Ban: Methods to Preserve
Free Expression
Beyond the Ban:
Methods to Preserve Free
Expression
Beyond the Ban: Methods to Preserve Free Expression
Imagine a film smuggled on a USB stick across borders hidden in a birthday cake – if you‘re wondering if that’s a funny idea for a script or a true story, read on!
Imagine a film smuggled on a USB stick across borders hidden in a birthday cake – if you‘re wondering if that’s a funny idea for a script or a true story, read on!
7 minutes read - Published 27.10.2024
By: Carina Scherer
By: Carina Scherer
7 minutes read - Published 27.10.2024
7 minutes read - Published 27.10.2024
Who would have thought that the first censored film ever was from 1896 for an Edison’s peepshow machine at Coney Island?! Right, the same guy who invented the light bulb (if you‘re still wondering if that’s actually true, this article might enlighten you: (https://www.sciencefocus.com/science/who-really-invented-the-light-bulb).
What’s even more disturbing is that it was called Fatima’s Coochee-Coochee Dance, where "Coochee-Coochee" was the US-American way of referring to belly dance. The woman shown in the film was Fatima Djamile, born in Syria. Sadly enough, she was just one of many women at that time dancing for horny Westerners under the stage name "Little Egypt." This whole branch of exotification and sexualization was a result of the Chicago World's Fair held in 1933–1934 (I’ll spare you the multiple levels of racism of this "exhibition").
While nowadays Fatima can go viral on YouTube and online porn is booming, there are numerous filmmakers from around the world trying hard to defy censorship; not necessarily for showing too much belly, but mostly for being too critical. So today we are going to take a closer look at some rebels from the SWANA region. Get ready to get inspired!
But first things first. There are two kinds of censorship: the one imposed by the authorities which means that the status quo could change in the next elections (well, what are the odds of that?!). The second kind is societal censorship. Imagine all parts of society, no matter if a worker, doctor, intellectual, or artist (you name it), participates collectively in censorship and self-censorship. So it’s not just state representatives telling you what (not) to do, but also your neighbor, your colleague, people in public transport, etc.
Often both kinds come hand in hand. But if that’s the case, there are still a bunch of courageous people continuing what they love to do, even if it means they’d end up in exile, prison, or worse. So who are they?
It would take forever to name them all, but let’s start with the documentary Talking About Trees by Suhaib Gasmelbari. It highlights the endeavors of four Sudanese filmmakers— Ibrahim Shaddad, Suleiman Mohamed Ibrahim, Altayeb Mahdi, and Manar Al-Hilo Hana—to establish a fully operational cinema through their newly founded Sudanese Film Group (SFG). During al-Bashir's rule from 1993 to 2019, funding for films was halted. Although the country didn't outright ban filmmaking, it imposed stringent requirements for obtaining permits and demanded reviewal of all scripts, making the process exceedingly challenging.
Since they couldn’t really make films anymore, they decided to create a space for cinema lovers to meet, watch, and discuss. The documentary shows how the will to action cannot be broken despite numerous bureaucratic hurdles.
A completely different example of bold filmmkaing is the fiction film Much Loved or Zin Li Fik by Franco-Moroccan filmmaker Nabil Ayouch. Banned in Morocco for painting a picture of the lives of sex workers in Marrakesh, it won awards in numerous festivals, among them Tunisia’s Carthage Film Festival: “Tunisia is as conservative as Morocco but the difference is that different points of view can co-exist and debate is tolerated,” says Nabil Ayouch.
The drama, narrated from the perspective of four sex workers with very explicit scenes of sex and abuse (trigger warning), addresses multiple taboo topics like queer sex, physical violence, and corruption. It mentions Europeans who pay 100 Dirham to have sex with children and shows how some men spend exorbitant amounts of money for private parties in their mansions while treating the sex workers poorly. Even though it’s a fictional film, the topics addressed imply a reality of a country where a whole industry is demonized and people who are working in it are abused instead of protected.
To show films outside of content-restricted countries like Morocco, many filmmakers choose to continue their work abroad. But is it really a choice or an inevitable consequence of a system‘s orders and threats? The latter definitely applies to filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof, who had to go into European exile (he crossed the border on foot!) to avoid his sentence of flogging, confiscation of his property, and eight years in prison in Iran. He received standing ovations for his film The Seed of the Sacred Fig in Cannes, a family drama about resistance that had to be secretly shot since his work is labeled as “anti government propaganda”.
The advantages of such filmmakers who produce and distribute their films outside of their homelands include easier access to funding and reaching a broader audience. With a certain level of outreach and success, they can not only inform the world about malpractices and wrongdoings of systems but also put pressure on them. But it is an incredibly high price to pay, leaving their homes and loved ones to continue living and working in exile.
Other practices worth mentioning when we talk about defying censorship include using hidden messages (non-verbal cues, symbols, metaphors, etc.), working with animation, or smuggling film material out of the country (e.g., This Is Not a Film by Jafar Panahi was indeed smuggled to the Cannes Film Festival on a flash drive concealed within a birthday cake).
Criticizing a regime, addressing religious matters in an "inappropriate" way, or breaking with moral taboos are all used as reasons for censorship. May it be proactive by denying access to permits or funding like in Talking About Trees or reactive by removing or adding parts to films, banning them, or legal prosecutions as in Mohammad Rasoulof’s case.
The arbitrariness with which some of these decisions are made is highly questionable. But the fact that certain films and filmmakers are being banned in the first place proves the impact of cinema as a weapon of resistance. Ultimately, those in power positions are afraid of the effect that films can have over a society they are trying so hard to control and infiltrate.
There’s a lot to learn from those who are vocal against those who seem invincible. As soon as filmmakers accept censorship, they give in to repression, which wouldn’t only affect the world of cinema but whole societies dealing with everyday struggles with no change in sight. We are eagerly awaiting the next gems from today's cinema rebels to watch, enjoy, and discuss. Our magazine will definitely keep you posted!
Who would have thought that the first censored film ever was from 1896 for an Edison’s peepshow machine at Coney Island?! Right, the same guy who invented the light bulb (if you‘re still wondering if that’s actually true, this article might enlighten you: https://www.sciencefocus.com/science/who-really-invented-the-light-bulb).
What’s even more disturbing is that it was called Fatima’s Coochee-Coochee Dance, where "Coochee-Coochee" was the US-American way of referring to belly dance. The woman shown in the film was Fatima Djamile, born in Syria. Sadly enough, she was just one of many women at that time dancing for horny Westerners under the stage name "Little Egypt." This whole branch of exotification and sexualization was a result of the Chicago World's Fair held in 1933–1934 (I’ll spare you the multiple levels of racism of this "exhibition").
While nowadays Fatima can go viral on YouTube and online porn is booming, there are numerous filmmakers from around the world trying hard to defy censorship; not necessarily for showing too much belly, but mostly for being too critical. So today we are going to take a closer look at some rebels from the SWANA region. Get ready to get inspired!
But first things first. There are two kinds of censorship: the one imposed by the authorities which means that the status quo could change in the next elections (well, what are the odds of that?!). The second kind is societal censorship. Imagine all parts of society, no matter if a worker, doctor, intellectual, or artist (you name it), participates collectively in censorship and self-censorship. So it’s not just state representatives telling you what (not) to do, but also your neighbor, your colleague, people in public transport, etc.
Often both kinds come hand in hand. But if that’s the case, there are still a bunch of courageous people continuing what they love to do, even if it means they’d end up in exile, prison, or worse. So who are they?
It would take forever to name them all, but let’s start with the documentary Talking About Trees by Suhaib Gasmelbari. It highlights the endeavors of four Sudanese filmmakers— Ibrahim Shaddad, Suleiman Mohamed Ibrahim, Altayeb Mahdi, and Manar Al-Hilo Hana—to establish a fully operational cinema through their newly founded Sudanese Film Group (SFG). During al-Bashir's rule from 1993 to 2019, funding for films was halted. Although the country didn't outright ban filmmaking, it imposed stringent requirements for obtaining permits and demanded reviewal of all scripts, making the process exceedingly challenging.
Since they couldn’t really make films anymore, they decided to create a space for cinema lovers to meet, watch, and discuss. The documentary shows how the will to action cannot be broken despite numerous bureaucratic hurdles.
A completely different example of bold moviemaking is the fiction film Much Loved or Zin Li Fik by Franco-Moroccan filmmaker Nabil Ayouch. Banned in Morocco for painting a picture of the lives of sex workers in Marrakesh, it won awards in numerous festivals, among them Tunisia’s Carthage Film Festival: “Tunisia is as conservative as Morocco but the difference is that different points of view can co-exist and debate is tolerated,” says Nabil Ayouch.
The drama, narrated from the perspective of four sex workers with very explicit scenes of sex and abuse (trigger warning), addresses multiple taboo topics like queer sex, physical violence, and corruption. It mentions Europeans who pay 100 Dirham to have sex with children and shows how some men spend exorbitant amounts of money for private parties in their mansions while treating the sex workers poorly. Even though it’s a fictional film, the topics addressed imply a reality of a country where a whole industry is demonized and people who are working in it are abused instead of protected.
To show films outside of content-restricted countries like Morocco, many filmmakers choose to continue their work abroad. But is it really a choice or an inevitable consequence of a system‘s orders and threats? The latter definitely applies to filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof, who had to go into European exile (he crossed the border on foot!) to avoid his sentence of flogging, confiscation of his property, and eight years in prison in Iran. He received standing ovations for his film The Seed of the Sacred Fig in Cannes, a family drama about resistance that had to be secretly shot since his work is labeled as “anti government propaganda”.
The advantages of such filmmakers who produce and distribute their movies outside of their homelands include easier access to funding and reaching a broader audience. With a certain level of outreach and success, they can not only inform the world about malpractices and wrongdoings of systems but also put pressure on them. But it is an incredibly high price to pay, leaving their homes and loved ones to continue living and working in exile.
Other practices worth mentioning when we talk about defying censorship include using hidden messages (non-verbal cues, symbols, metaphors, etc.), working with animation, or smuggling film material out of the country (e.g., This Is Not a Film by Jafar Panahi was indeed smuggled to the Cannes Film Festival on a flash drive concealed within a birthday cake).
Criticizing a regime, addressing religious matters in an "inappropriate" way, or breaking with moral taboos are all used as reasons for censorship. May it be proactive by denying access to permits or funding like in Talking About Trees or reactive by removing or adding parts to films, banning them, or legal prosecutions as in Mohammad Rasoulof’s case.
The arbitrariness with which some of these decisions are made is highly questionable. But the fact that certain films and filmmakers are being banned in the first place proves the impact of cinema as a weapon of resistance. Ultimately, those in power positions are afraid of the effect that films can have over a society they are trying so hard to control and infiltrate.
There’s a lot to learn from those who are vocal against those who seem invincible. As soon as filmmakers accept censorship, they give in to repression, which wouldn’t only affect the world of cinema but whole societies dealing with everyday struggles with no change in sight. We are eagerly awaiting the next gems from today's cinema rebels to watch, enjoy, and discuss. Our magazine will definitely keep you posted!