Do We Trivialize Evil Trying to Capture it on Film?

I’ve been pondering the concept of evil as depicted in film as of late, as the topic has come to mind while viewing several films: Elephant, United 93, 9/11 (the documentary), Schindler’s List, Life is Beautiful, Jonestown: Life & Death of the People’s Temple.

Here’s the crux of the issue: Can Evil truly be depicted in film, and to what end?

I postulate that films, and art in general, in their greatest forms, are able to transcend and transform mere content (and context) so that we may experience greater insight (into life, the human condition, you name it) and perhaps affect change.

I’ve always been troubled by films about the Holocaust. Setting aside cinematic and technical achievements, a friend of mine once told me he had no desire to see Schindler’s List because he didn’t “need Steven Spielberg to revivify the Holocaust” for him. Indeed, the great Elie Wiesel suggested in an essay on art and the Holocaust that traditional narrative filmmaking only serves to trivialize the memory of a literally unspeakable horror. After reading his essay, I found in retrospect that Life is Beautiful is just plain offensive. Much as I admire Quentin Tarantino’s work, and the extraordinary set pieces of Inglorious Basterds, the concept of the Jewish revenge film may only serve to distract from the truth of history. Dismissing the work as taking place in an alternate universe is no excuse. I remain troubled by the film.

But far greater scholars than I have tackled this issue before. Instead, I extend Mr. Wiesel’s thesis to include modern Holocausts – events so horrific that they simply transcend traditional storytelling. How can one “produce” those moments inside United Flight 93? Doesn’t this film reduce the reality within the plane, and by extension the reality of that entire awful day, to an oversimplified and ultimately valueless series of images? As Mr. Wiesel says, “All is trivial and superficial, even death itself: there is no mystery in its mystery.”

And what of Columbine? What of Jonestown? Do these events not occupy a similar universe that Mr. Wiesel believes the Holocaust was experienced in? If Mr. Wiesel is right, then any act of Evil should not be depicted in narrative film….thereby rendering the medium valueless.

Yet we cannot turn away from a cinematic depiction of Evil out of fear of trivializing it. Still, filmmakers tread a fine line the moment they shout, “action” (never mind the very act of creating a work depicting Evil is made in the service of commerce). So how can filmmakers engage in the transformative process of art without trivializing memory, without offending those touched by a great Evil?

Mr. Wiesel does allow for the interpretation of Holocaust through documentary films, such as Shoah. He reminds us, “Listen to the survivors and respect their wounded sensibility. Open yourselves to their scarred memory, and mingle your tears with theirs.” In Shoah or 9/11, bringing the events to an audience in the words and images of those who were there, or who witnessed them, removes any abstraction. It forces the viewer to understand that what they are seeing, in all of its horror, is very real. Only from the sheer shock of reality can one hope to transcend or transform — to affect change.

To that end, then, we can also look upon Jonestown: The Life and Death of The People’s Temple as a triumph. I need not recount the film or the events here, other than to say I believe it completely fulfills Mr. Wiesel’s criteria. The film can, and should, be viewed multiple times. It manages to communicate the uncommunicable.

In narrative filmmaking, the issue becomes dicier. One may argue that United 93 is as close as one may come to a documentary and, therefore, carries with it an equivalent value. And yet — and yet — I cannot help but personally feel that I don’t need Paul Greengrass to revivify the events of that day for me. Indeed, I have not seen the film because I am concerned that by watching the depiction of the events on the plane, it will remove the very abstraction that I need in my own mind in order to contextualize what really happened.

Then we have Elephant, Gus Van Sant’s impressionistic film about Columbine. The film is terrifyingly compelling. Somehow, Van Sant manages to both capture the reality of the event in fictional form but, because of his technique, he almost elevates the event to abstraction. Perhaps it is only in this quasi-documentary form, an abstraction of reality, that we begin the process of insight. I can’t even explain why. On the one hand, he contextualizes the event. On the other, his technique permits an almost Brechtian distanciation from it. As the film has no real catharsis, it does indeed take on Brechtian characteristics, urging the audience to seek out answers outside the theatre, and perhaps to affect real change. Perhaps some will be moved to read Dave Cullen’s magnificent account.

That may be the fundamental difference between Elephant and United 93. The latter only permits us to bear witness, although perhaps uncomfortably, much in the way Schindler’s List does. Since I cannot do anything about those events, cannot forcibly affect change or take on the great Evil that lay behind it, I am left feeling powerless and hopeless (although I may intellectually recognize that “one man can make a difference”) .With Elephant, I feel the need to contemplate the events more closely, and seek out answers in an effort to affect change.

Holocaust documentaries teach the lesson: never forget. Be forever vigilant that another such time may come, be ready for it, defend against it. 9/11 brings the horror home for us to bear witness, and yet I am still left asking: to what end? It offers us no catharsis. We cannot change the minds of those who hate and seek only to destroy. “Some men just want to watch the world burn,” as The Dark Knight reminds us.

Ultimately, I believe the depiction of true, unadulterated Evil is not only possible, but necessary. However, the filmmaker who chooses to examine such Evil may have an obligation to memory, such that his work will force us to reflect upon whatever change is necessary to prevent such Evil from recurring. The techniques used would seem to be limited to documentary, quasi-documentary, or perhaps an as yet unexplored method of Impressionism.