One would expect that a show in conjunction with UB's Gender Week would be relevant to the subject of gender. This is not necessarily the case. The documentary "Naked Spaces," shown last Thursday at the Student Union Theater, has absolutely nothing to do with gender, relationships between genders, or even a feminist perspective of society. In fact, it's fair to say that the subject of the film is difficult to grasp.
But what is apparent is that the process of acquiring a speeding ticket is more gratifying. "Naked Spaces" should be shown as punishment for quiet hours violations. The documentary is on the Kabye, Kukamba and the Dogan African communities, with emphasis on the structures built by the inhabitants. And it's narrated by three women with French accents.
The director, Trinh T. Minh-ha, is among them. Minh-ha attempts to give her voiceover more gravit?(c) by constantly playing it throughout the whole film. There are periodic interludes during tribal ceremonies when the actual sound of the natives is cut for the sake of her narrative, which in turn is usually followed by dead air for two minutes, boring the audience into a stupor.
The lines read by the narrators are all quotes given to them by the people of the villages. But they are so badly translated that the villagers come across as being nonsensical fools. One comment heard in the voiceover is:
"The Earth is blue, like an orange."
Hopefully in the respective tribal language, this does not mean same thing as it does in English. The quotes are taken out of context and are not linked by any type of plot or overriding theme. In addition, the director chooses to speak many of the lines as many as four times. It's like attending a church service for two and a half hours.
The documentary's stylistic approach also makes mistakes. Minh-ha changes the speed of the recording during the dances and ritualistic celebrations. This provides the illusion of slow motion when the movie is played. The problem is that dancing is a part of the tribes' everyday lives. Slow motion is usually used to put dramatic emphasis on notable occurrences. Because dancing is a daily activity, manipulating the speed of the playback is pointless.
It would be a better idea to show a storm in slow motion. The people of these villages rely on their crops, so a heavy rainfall would be quite significant, and thus, better suited to a documentary of their lives.
What Minh-ha chooses to film is obscure and indecipherable in its meaning. Thirty second shots of single beams of light may serve to captivate the audience's attention once or twice, but she does it at least a half-dozen times. She also takes close-up shots of mud-brick walls. The viewers' reaction to these choices is frustration, not because the meaning is lost on them, but because it's re-emphasized so many times.
There is, however, one redeeming quality to this documentary. Minh-ha has gotten a rare opportunity to film an African culture in a very personal setting. It's clear that her subjects trust her and her camera's presence, and it's a privilege to witness some aspects of African society.
There is a brief shot that focuses on two children playing Mancalla, a game introduced to the United States by the Nature Company and other commercial distributors. Another scene shows shaman reading the footprints of a fox to predict the future.
But "Naked Spaces" is not a gender-relevant documentary. There is no relevant content that analyzes the behavior of the sexes. Instead, one narrator says,
"Adornment inspires love. The wearing of beautiful articles creates love."
This isn't exactly an idea that's going to rock the field of gender relations. But Minh-ha thought it appropriate to include it in her film, along with unedited stuttering in the narrative and a long list of choppy cuts.
Photo: Meredith Forrest Kulwicki
