(I was getting
ready to write a Slice Tuesday night, but my laptop wouldn't let me, freezing
and repeatedly giving me the Whirling Beachball of Death. Yesterday I was
lulled into a false sense of security when it worked fine for about 20 minutes.
But in the afternoon, it no longer showed me what percentage of power I had
left, the battery icon showing an X, even though the charger lit up green as
though the laptop was fully charged. I didn't believe it. So I rented a car and
found a computer repair shop and left it the hopefully competent hands of
Cinematic Computers. I have it back now, sort of. We'll see how it behaves when it has a new battery next week.)
What I wanted to
write about was seeing the Oscar-Nominated Live Action Shorts at the Doris Duke
Theater at the Honolulu Academy of Art. Five films, each 15 to 30 minutes in
length, from Hungary, Denmark, Spain, France, and Switzerland, ranged from
fable to intensely political. WARNING: I hope I don't reveal any SPOILERS, but
if you're concerned about that, read no further.
The best film, in my opinion,
is not likely to win because it isn't a safe choice. The French film,
"Internal Enemies," consists almost entirely of two characters: a
56-year-old man seeking citizenship, and a French official interrogating him
over his application. Everything the applicant says is heard by the official as
suspicious, and you, as the viewer, can see how even the most innocent answer
can sound suspicious to someone whose job is to distrust everyone he questions.
The applicant was brought from Algeria
in 1959, when he was 5, by his father. The official says, "You were born
in Algeria?" The applicant says, "No." The official looks
surprised; this is clearly the wrong answer. The applicant explains: "It
was France when I was born. It did not become Algeria until after I left."
The official is not satisfied. "Why did your father choose Algerian
citizenship?" The applicant shrugs and tries to establish commonality with
the official. "I never asked him. Did you ask your father why he did
anything?" The official refuses to acknowledge any connection between
himself and the applicant, and moves on to the next question.
Eventually, the official zeroes
in on what really concerns him: the names of anyone the applicant met at
"meetings" he attended. The official calls "meetings" any
gathering that the applicant was part of. The applicant thinks a meeting is
something formal, called for a purpose, and he was just sitting down with a
group of men from the mosque to talk, be sociable, eat pastries and drink tea.
Why shouldn't he say the names of these men? Because years ago, someone giving
the police some names caused the applicant a huge amount of trouble, and he
doesn't want to cause anyone else such trouble.
Watching the interrogation is
excruciating. I felt most empathy for the applicant and had to force myself to
get inside the official, whose facial expression and questions display so much
arrogance and certainty that he is right, and by extension that the applicant
is wrong. It's possible that the official's attitude is simply part of a
technique, put on for his job and not representing his true person. The
official's job is to protect France and the French people. The applicant
believes himself part of "the French people" already, and wants to
make that official, for his own safety. But the official's job is to force the
applicant to prove that he has a right to become part of "the French
people," and how is that to be done? I also felt that if the applicant was
not already hostile to France, the official's treatment could well make him
hostile. Does the official ever think of that, and does he care?
And what if someone at those
gatherings the applicant went to was a recruiter for violent jihad? Could that
be why he stopped going? Or was it something more subtle that made the
applicant uneasy after a period of time, but nothing so clear-cut that he feels
he can safely tell the official, "yes, this man could be dangerous"?
Throughout the film I kept
thinking of Trump's executive order on immigration and how U.S. customs
officials treat immigrants and refugees seeking visas or arriving in the United
States. Visa applicants to the U.S. already go through a lengthy vetting
process. Does Trump's "extreme vetting" envision something like the
interrogation in this film? Of course, we want to be safe; we don't want men
like those who flew the planes into the World Trade Center coming here. But do
we gain safety by assuming that every Muslim -- men, women, children -- is a
violent jihadi unless they can prove they aren't? Is this a test anyone can
ever pass?
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