Interpreting WALKABOUT and SWEPT AWAY: Saeviri Humanum Est by Isaac Hoffman

Reviewers and interpreters of the films Walkabout, by Nicolas Roeg, and Swept Away, by Lina Wertmüller, tend to paint the over-arching messages of the films as acutely monochromatic, when often there is much evidence that through the motifs of juxtaposition in the two pictures, the directors not only contrast “civilization” with “savagery” and capitalism with communism, but also compare the adverse concepts in such a manner that the viewer is forced to critically contemplate the value of each. These interpretations, though perfectly valid, often neglect the inherent reciprocity of “juxtaposition,” that the correlation of different ideas highlights both differences and similarities.

In her analysis of Walkabout, “Eyes Wide Shut,” Alexa Grabowski skillfully elaborates one such comparison in the beginning shots of the film:

People’s faces were not shown for the majority of the opening scene; they were cut off at waist level. The children even appeared to be panting like dogs while in class leading me to believe that Roeg wanted us to see them as a herd of animals rather than individuals. At that point I understood that there was going to be a hint of societal mockery throughout the film. (2)

This is an engaging interpretation, and later in her essay, Ms. Grabowski explains that to interpret this “societal mockery” as purely subversive detracts from the film’s message as a whole (4). Rather than focusing only on the contrasts between civilization and savagery, the film considers the parallels between modernity and its ancestors in tribal systems and unfortunately suggests no solution to the problems which Roeg presents.

In a similar manner, Xavier Eang Lee in his analysis, “The Colored Man’s Burden,” interprets a poignant scene in the film which juxtaposes the Aborigine boy’s gutting of a kangaroo with cuts to a professional butcher in his shop:

The switching between visuals shows the connection between the two ways of butchering. Ab’s way is messy and out in the open, while the Western butcher is chopping in a clean, white environment.  Although these two methods are different they are still essentially the same thing.  Roeg uses the constant changing between frames to show that what may seem savage or taboo from one point of view may not be so from another. (4)

This scene does not demonize Western society, but uses the assaulted sensibilities of the viewer, offended by the brutality of the butchery, to remind him/her that the most significant difference between the two worlds, civilized and savage, is that Western society demonizes the personality of the uncivilized; the concept of civility pretends that the connection between actor and action has been severed, that interaction which remains impersonal is of higher status. Notice that, much like the children in Ms. Grabowski’s scene, the face of the butcher is not in the field of view, his identity is separate from his deeds.

This insulation of doer from done is most clearly present in the young boy, who runs about playing war in the beginning of the movie, yet does not understand the implications of his own father taking shots at him. Society has severed the connection between the deed and the morality and brutality of its author, no one is personally invested in their action and this allows them to do as they please without intervention on the part of the conscience. It is this intentional severance which Roeg is highlighting in this film and he gives no real suggestions for solving the problem.

Unlike the previous analyses, the following interpretations attempt to place the film Swept Away in neat little boxes of “misogynistic” or “pseudo-feminist,” with little consideration of how the themes are used in the movie, particularly whether or not the sexism in the film—Gennarino states outright, “Women were meant to serve men” (Wertmüller 59 min.)—is presented in a negative or positive light. Though it is certainly arguable whether or not rape in film (and, in this case, it most certainly is rape) can even be comedic at all, Wertmüller’s film can be interpreted satirically, and the question simply becomes whether or not the mockery was successful and clear (the very fact that it must be debated is evidence that the parody has failed). How this satirical interpretation affects the intent of the film remains mostly unexplored.

Roger Ebert, in his review of the film, argues that the film sends two specific messages:

(1) That once the corrupt facade of capitalism is stripped away, it's the worker, with the sweat of his back, who deserves to reap the benefit of his own labor, and (2) that woman is an essentially masochistic and submissive creature who likes nothing better than being swept off her feet by a strong and lustful male. (par. 5)

While this is one possible interpretation, it assumes that Gennarino is meant to be viewed as the film’s protagonist, that he is in the “right” at all times. It seems a more nuanced approach is necessary. Perhaps Wertmüller intends to highlight the similarities between the two systems, capitalist and communist, as she points out that even when the communist is in power, he abuses his power as much as Raffaella does when she has the greatest influence. This is certainly not to say that her verbal abuse is somehow equal in magnitude to rape, as this is not the case, but if the director is satirizing Gennarino’s actions, then it is incredibly ironic that the communist, who ostensibly fights for a classless society, sets up a diminutive sexist hierarchy as soon as the reigns are his to snap.

James Berardinelli, in his opposing view of Swept Away, argues that those who criticize the film’s sexism are neglecting two pieces of evidence:

First, Raffaella actually starts the abuse with her constant berating of and lording over Gennarino on the yacht. Secondly, this "romance" is not taking place in anything resembling a civilized situation - by virtue of their circumstances, the characters have been thrown back into a setting that mimics prehistoric times, when survival (of the individual and of the species) dictated coupling. Gennarino's physical dominance of Raffaella is, in a strange way, the manner in which he proves to her that he is strong enough to be her mate. (par. 4)

About the most valuable fragments of analysis in this review are the scare-quotes around “romance,” as the film is hardly romantic and not very comedic. The critic’s first point, which has already been touched upon, argues that Raffaella somehow brought the sexual abuse upon herself through her verbal attacks on Gennarino—when he ignores her whining, she shouts, “Your refusal to answer me only shows what a peasant you were!”(Wertmüller 55 min.)—and this argument essentially justifies rape to avenge insult. Berardinelli’s second point romanticizes a primitive state of being and he falls into the trap of demonizing civility and glamorizing “prehistoric times.” The characters’ natural setting is not an excuse to defenestrate morality, but an opportunity to analyze society (which is has both advantages and disadvantages) in an objective manner; injustices can be redressed and a better amalgamated system implemented. To throw completely off the mantle of civilization is to lose its benefits along with its issues, and this principle can also be applied to capitalism, which, though quite imperfect, has some admirable qualities. This is perhaps the message of Wertmüller’s film, that critical analysis and alteration of the status quo is a better path than starting again from tabula rasa. Not to mention that to justify rape by the location in which it was committed, which Berardinelli attempts to do, is morally myopic.

These reviews prove that to focus only on either the comparisons or the contrasts between two concepts limits interpretation, and, ironically, falls into the same trap as the characters in Swept Away, who can only see each other’s differences, physical and political, and not their similarities as fellow human beings. Neither Walkabout nor Swept Away attempt to subvert civilization as it is today, but to force their audiences to think critically on societal issues with an objective morality, without romanticism or hatred of different concepts in their entirety, and by union of the most beneficial aspects of each system to create an objectively better world.

Works Cited

Berardinelli, James. Rev. of Swept Away, dir. Lina Wertmüller. ReelViews. Web.

Eang Lee, Xavier. “The Colored Man’s Burden.” 2016. Print.

Ebert, Roger. “Swept Away by an Unusual Destiny in the Blue Sea of August.” RogerEbert.com.

            20 February 1976. Web.

 Swept Away. Dir. Lina Wertmüller. Perf. Giancarlo Giannini, Mariangela Melato. 1974. Web.

Walkabout. Dir. Nicolas Roeg. Perf. Jenny Agutter, Luc Roeg, and David Gulpilil. 1971. Film.

            YouTube. 10 Jan. 2016. Web. 16 Feb. 2016.

What Do You Do with Trash: A Review of WALKABOUT & THE GODS MUST BE CRAZY by Myrtchena Antoine

We live in a world where we’re always looking for answers. We’ve even made careers over finding out how the body works and how things in nature are made. Through Nicholas Roeg’s Walkabout, it is clear that many things are wrong in our broken society. But what this film lacks, although very impactful and eye-opening, is an answer to the question looming over our heads: If the ways of civil society are so bad, how do we fix it? Jamie Uys’ The Gods Must Be Crazy offers a solution to this unanswered question.

His answer is simple. Get rid of it. To put it bluntly, society’s way of running things is trash. And when you have trash you don’t keep it, you simply throw it away. In a highly sarcastic and humorous way, Uys shows the difference between the day-to-day busy society versus the peaceful and unified life of the “uncivilized” Bushmen. In the opening scenes, the typical ways of the Bushmen people are shown as the narrator vocally depicts what the viewers are seeing. He describes their world as gentle; it’s without punishment, evil, or even ownership. A few scenes later, there’s a shift in the narrator’s voice as the setting changes from the Kalahari Desert to civil society a couple of miles south. With a sarcastic and mocking tone, he explains the daily life of the civilized people. The narrator describes civilization as a world where one constantly has to adapt, readapt and dis-adapt. He says, “For instance, if the day is called Monday and the number 7-3-0 comes up, you have to dis-adapt yourself to your domestic surroundings and readapt yourself to a completely different environment” (Uys, 6:40). He goes on to describe the rest of the work schedule utilizing the same tone of mockery. Just a few minutes later, the scene shifts back to the Kalahari desert where a small plane is flying overhead. The pilot, who has just finished a bottle of Coca-Cola, decides to dispose of the bottle by dropping it out the window. The landing of the bottle into the land where the Bushmen inhabit is the viewer’s first glimpse of western civilization’s negative impact on the uncivilized.

Nicholas Roeg’s Walkabout gives a harsher look on how western civilization destroys the lives of those living outside of that world and even those who live in it. The film’s main focus is two British children who are left stranded in the Australian Outback. Coming from a place where everything is done for them or can be done with a press of a button, the children find it difficult surviving in such an unfamiliar place. When they come across an Aboriginal boy on a walkabout, they immediately use him to their advantage. The Aboriginal becomes their hunter and guide, but when he finally returns them to civilization, they immediately order him around and behave ungraciously. There are also scenes of the boy’s people being put to work by white males and the slaughter of animals with high-powered rifles. All these events result in the boy taking his life, not wanting to live a life where he and his indigenous culture are used by others.

It may seem impossible that something so ordinary as a Coca-Cola bottle can represent something so vast and unique as civilized society, but Uys cleverly manages to do so. The Bushmen’s first encounter with the mysterious object was filled with confusion. They wondered why such an odd object was sent down to them. Not in the habit of wasting resources, they used the bottle to do many things. The narrator described it as a “real labor saving device,” a small way of showing the ways of western culture entering their lives. Civilization started out with just small things that made labor easier, then gradually grew into the highly technological industry that society is today. The Bushmen lived a life of peace where no one owned anything--everything was shared. But with the Coca-Cola bottle entering their life, the Bushmen started to change; everyone wanted to use it. “And now for the first time in their lives, here was a thing that could not be shared because there was only one of it [...] a thing they never needed before became a necessity” (Uys, 10:28). They now became jealous, angry, and violent with one another. Seeing that this object was making everyone unhappy, the Bushmen Xi made the decision to bury “The Evil Thing.” Somehow it came back in their lives, so Xi said that he’d travel to the end of the earth to finally get rid of it.

Finally we’re presented with a solution to the question: how do we fix society? Society was built on stealing, violence, hate, and many other elements. The solution to fixing this is by throwing away the way of life that we are so used to. The best way of mending this broken society would be by starting from scratch, but that’s inherently impossible. Instead it’s more plausible to rid of things one by one until eventually there is no more. Had the children in Walkabout thrown out their way of life and adapted to the situation they were in, then maybe the film would not have ended so tragically. Perhaps they would have coexisted with the Aborigine boy and his people and arguably have had a better life than the one they went back to. The Gods Must Be Crazy sheds a light on our damp society and gives the hope that Walkabout depicted as lost.

Works Cited

Roeg, Nicolas. Walkabout. Perf. Jenny Agutter, David Gulpilil, and Luc Roeg. A Max L. Raab-

Si Litvinoff Production, 1971. Film.

Uys, Jamie. "The Gods Must Be Crazy." N.p., n.d. Web.

<http://megashare.sc/watch-the-gods-must-be-crazy-online-TVRjMw>.