In the first double issue this year of the monthly Romano voďi we have
prepared a three-part series for you on the topic of foreigners and minorities
in film and television. In these articles about various countries – the Czech
Republic, Germany, and the USA – the authors discuss film and television
productions and touch on the depiction of Romani people in literature as well.
Part One: Roma in Czech film (II)
What are "The Birdies" (“Ptáčata”) singing about?
Despite criticism that public broadcaster Czech Television has been
strengthening prejudices against minorities recently, primarily through its
"Ambulance" (“Sanitka”) series or the "You Have the Floor" (“Máte slovo”)
program, we can also find works in its repertoire that do their best to
influence public opinion in a different, positive and sensitive way. The second
series of the documentary serial "The Birdies" (“Ptáčata”), which was broadcast
on Czech Television from December 2013 through this past January, is definitely
one such production.
The name of this docu-soap, directed by Kamila Zlatušková and produced by
Martina Šantavá’s group at the Brno studio of Czech Television, refers to the
Romani saying Sako čirikio mi peskeri giĺi gil’avel – “Let each bird sing
its own song” – and tells the story of a group of predominantly Romani children
who, as a result of racial prejudice, have come together in a primary school
classroom in Brno. The parents of “white” children have pressured the directors
of the school by signing a petition against non-Romani and Romani children
studying together, so the children are segregated – while mostly white children
attend the “A” class, the “B” class has become the refuge of the outcasts.
This resulting “class of the unwanted” becomes a metaphor for Czech antigypsyism
(the most monstrous form of which we were able to see recently in the case of
the
quintuplets), where even helpless children become the victims of our
cultural and racial prejudices. These particular children have found themselves
from one day to the next on the margins of interest, excluded from the society
of “decent people”, face to face with racism at such a young age, publicly
stigmatized through no fault of their own.
In addition to the creation of these “special” classes, there was an attempt at
the school to ban common recesses so that non-Romani and Romani children would
never come into contact at all, but in the end that plan was not realized.
Nevertheless, even though the resulting situation was not at all a friendly one
for the Romani children, it did allow for the creation of this unique television
project.
It must be said that this was thanks to the approach taken by the teachers of
these Romani children, who have long dedicated themselves to the issue of
socio-culturally disadvantaged children, and who have actively educated
themselves in this field both at home and abroad. It was ultimately they
(specifically the teacher Jarmila, whose daughter is the director of this
documentary project) who drew attention to the issue at their school and
initiated the production of the program.
Through its open, unbiased documentation of the everyday difficulties of these
young children, the program has become a mirror, one into which it is not easy
to look with a clear conscience. The degree of sincerity with which this group
of children presents itself to us can be unpleasant for those aware of how those
around them (and indirectly, all of us) behave toward them.
This docu-soap is ultimately not just a portrait of a single classroom. It is
primarily a portrait of our society which, blinded as it is by prejudice, is not
aware of the effects of its behavior and that those effects fundamentally impact
real people in real situations.
The first season of “The Birdies”, subtitled “We aren’t B’s” (“Nejsme žádná
béčka”) was filmed between 2009 and 2010 and met with a very positive response.
A total of 16 episodes, each 26 minutes long, were broadcast and the series made
the rounds of many festivals.
Based on the success of the first season, the producers decided to continue
filming this group of mostly Romani children for a second one. While the first
season was directed by Zlatušková together with Ladislav Cmíral, the second
season only has the one director (Zlatušková), who has abandoned the purely
confrontational style of the first season and decided to go with long-term
observation of the children in real, not staged, situations.
The second season also maps the lives of the children over a longer period of
time (starting in third grade and ending in fifth grade) and each episode is
dedicated to a certain theme that the children themselves participated in
choosing. Already during the first season the crew of the docu-soap did their
best to involve the children in this “game” by giving them their own cameras,
which galvanized the program, primarily because their points of view became 100
% real for the viewer, and not just because of what they decided to document
from their own lives, but how.
From the standpoint of identifying with the main protagonists of the program,
this was a rather essential moment, as it stopped being merely a way for members
of the majority society to observe this world from the outside and embodied, at
least in part, the authentic perspective of the excluded protagonists on the
world around them. The main difference between the first and second season (and
it must be said that it is an improvement) primarily manifests itself in the way
the program is framed.
In the second season, the authors have proceeded toward a broader social
conception of the whole documentary cycle – we don’t “just” see the children in
staged situations that are not traditional for them (visiting a luxury
restaurant, going on a field trip, etc.), but we also see the reality of our
times through their eyes (such as the anti-Romani marches here, or the death of
Czech President Václav Havel). The first episode of the new season, called
“We’re all gypsies” (“Všichni jsme cikáni”) burst upon the screens of Czech
Television viewers with an unusually strong topic: After introducing and
recapitulating the previous episodes, the Romani children set out with their
cameras to a blockade of a neo-Nazi march, the route of which had been planned
to pass directly through the streets where most of the children on the program
live.
Janička, a little girl from the class being followed by “The Birdies”, sets
forth among the “protesters” and, little camera in hand, comes face to face with
the extremists to ask what they are demonstrating against. The consistent
ignorance displayed by some of her interlocutors points precisely to the main
problems of Czech antigypsyism – it is disconnected from reality, lacking in
context and experience.
When the gypsy-bashers are confronted with a flesh-and-blood victim of their
invective, and when that victim is a young child, they are (understandably)
hesitant to tell her she should be gassed to death, so they prefer to avert
their gazes elsewhere and not answer her question. It is a great shame that
similarly strong moments are not seen on television more often or more
regularly.
The very idea of viewing a situation like an anti-Romani march through the lens
of those who are hostages to that situation – such as Romani children – is not
usual for the Czech media world (unfortunately). Such a perspective is more than
desirable, if only because it reveals the real effects of the behavior of those
who, thinking they can hide in the crowd as easily as they do in online
discussions, do not realize that individuals with their own often very
formidable destinies are there on the other side of the fence facing their
hatred.
Beyond the area of documentary film, this leads me to consider what news
reporting might look like if, from time to time, there was an attempt to report
these events from the perspective of those who are being attacked. To film these
events from the rooms and windows of the Romani families who prefer to hide the
whole afternoon in their apartment buildings or, God forbid, in residential
hotels as they face these increasing displays of hatred, some of which border on
attempted pogroms, week after week.
While I know the task of news reporting is primarily to inform people as
objectively as possible, I still believe that Czech Television should attempt
news reporting from such a perspective at least every once in a while. While
footage from the outside of these antigypsyist marches doesn’t give viewers the
opportunity to connect with the targets of such aggressive sieges, sketching the
perspective of those on the other side of them could help approximate the
emotions pulling at the inhabitants of socially excluded localities every time
the “decent Czechs” threaten to lynch them.
Upcoming episodes of this new season of “The Birdies” should also work well
outside its immediate environment, such as episode two (“The Children’s
Republic” – “Dětská republika”), which could serve as a handbook of civic
activism that should definitely be taught in every primary school as part of
raising awareness of the options available in a parliamentary democracy,
something definitely important to our own managing of civic affairs. It is
strange to recall that, five years ago when the first season of “The Birdies”
was being realized, there were no docu-soaps in the Czech media – i.e., no
cycles of ongoing documentaries that developed either over time or to tell a
story.
The format, which by that time was already declining in television abroad, was
not brought to Czech television screens until Kamila Zlatušková’s team, which
has long sought inspiration from public broadcasting television abroad, did so.
Ever since we have noticed several other series of a documentary nature, from
the stories of four mothers on the program “Four In It” (“Čtyři v tom”) to the
portraits of couples preparing for their weddings.
There is no doubt that “The Birdies”, especially its second season, remains the
most “social” of all of these programs, and the scope of its work in terms of an
effort at a positive approach toward minority issues is broad – and primarily,
it is effective. Kamila Zlatušková says that one of the inspiring moments for
the creation of “The Birdies” was when she watched a Swedish reality show called
“Klass 9A”.
That show was a portrait of a very troubled class, one usually labeled the worst
in the entire country. However, after the finest professors arrive to teach
them, the entire cohort of the cursed class proves that it is possible for them
to get themselves together, to come alive, and to dramatically improve their
academic results.
The program shows, quite straightforwardly, that the problem in such a school is
rarely the children themselves, and that the often blind highlighting of
“equality of opportunity” (the notion that everyone has the same opportunity to
develop and that all they have to do is want to develop)
is dysfunctional . Our
surroundings and the environment into which we are born and operate are
essential for us and have a determining influence on our lives.
“The Birdies” works with that issue as a matter of course from
the very nature of its inception. Its most common sources of inspiration, while
still new to us here, are by now already old formats elsewhere in Europe, such
as the shows made in the Netherlands or some Scandinavian ones which have long
been recognized not only for their enviable quality, but for their courage,
humor, insight and refusal to compromise.
While Czech public television, at the start of 2014, is presenting us with the
lobotomized productions of Filip Renč, who has abandoned all responsibility for
the infinitely stupid stereotypes promoted in his show “Ambulance” (Sanitka) by
saying he “just brought [the screenplay] to life” (a show that, incidentally, is
one of the most expensive ever produced by Czech Television in recent years), in
the Netherlands and Scandinavia they have long since begun producing programs
that take an almost scathing approach toward the issue of the treatment of
immigrants and minorities, provoking nationwide debates and, in many cases,
managing to change legislation as a result. Maybe that’s why Norwegian
television can now afford, without hesitation, to broadcast footage of a log
burning in a fireplace all evening long, or a sweater being knitted, or a train
journey.
This kind of programming strikes me as more
challenging and inspirational than all the
“Ambulances” with [Czech actors] Donutil and Bohdalová put together. In this
country we have no experience with programs such as “There’s No Place Like
Home”, a Dutch quiz show featuring real immigrants who have actually been
sentenced, after spending whole lifetimes and years in the Netherlands, to
deportation back to their native countries (often still beset by war and not at
all free) on the basis of absolutely bizarre tests, such as being asked to
assemble pieces of cheese into the shape of the Netherlands, in order to show
people the absurd, impersonal bureaucratic conditions for immigrants there.
Although
similar formats to this cruel satire border on the unacceptable
(part of “There’s No Place Like Home” included merchandise prizes for the immigrants’
trips “home”, such as a
bulletproof vest or a supply of canned food in addition to
EUR 4 000 for the winner’s new start) the
debate it managed to spark, hand in hand with some responsible self-reflection on the part of the ruling elite and a subsequent change to the law, shows that despite the massive
increase in the impact of the Internet, it is still television shows that, with their
wide availability, occupy the largest percentage of the media field. If a show succeeds, with the help of formalistic innovations, to accentuate trends in society in terms of its content, then it affects the thinking of the audience.
Even though the response to “The Birdies” (especially on internet discussion
boards) is being conducted once again in the spirit of good old Czech
antigypsyism, it is important that programs of a similar type turn up from time
to time on television, and it would be infinitely encouraging if there were more
and more of them. Ideally, these shows would not require anyone having to go
through the start of a similar segregating experience like the one encountered
by the pupils of class 2B.
The above examples
from abroad can give us hope that, if met with enough creative ingenuity , with the
courage to tear down prejudices, and with a relatively self-aware government , t elevision in the 21st century media might become an even more influential and powerful medium. If we take into account the fact that, in the case of
public television, its task is not to generate profit but to “cultivate” and
improve the media environment through its productions, to create room for
discussion, to provide space to all members of society, and, in any event, to
avoid cultural, gender-based, racial, religious and sexual discrimination – and
given that we have the direct right to demand this of it – then each one of us
can become an active participant in its story.
Personally, I
think the relationship between the media and its audience or its readers is a reciprocal one. That means the
audience and the media mutually enrich and influence one another.
This relationship
can then improve the society-wide discussion. The
sensitive issue of cultural
and racial animosity here
could only benefit from
this.
