Now Playing at AFS: Stories About Reclaiming Space
The Austin Film Society virtual cinema currently features several films about experiences and perspectives the world systemically marginalizes. These stories highlight voices that have long deserved to be heard by centering them in empowering narratives.
MADE IN BANGLADESH
(2019) dir. Rubaiyat Hossain
There’s a moment in Made in Bangladesh when several women proclaim that “Workers’ rights are human rights.” This is their first step toward forming a union, an idea proposed by a colleague at a textile factory that exploits their labor. That colleague’s tragic death in a fire drives the remaining women to make their voices heard.
Shimu, the main character in the film, endures brutal working conditions and various forms of harassment. Unfortunately, she is completely dependent on the availability of her extremely dangerous job as a way to gain some small measure of agency. When Shimu emerges as a leader in a coordinated unionization effort, she faces hostility from her controlling husband and coworkers afraid to upset the status quo. Through these conflicts, the film effectively illustrates the ways in which imbalanced partnerships and work situations can keep a woman’s world small.
Shimu’s mission to unionize her factory involves overcoming bureaucratic and psychological barriers. Some of the film’s biggest moments hinge on things like collective assembly and paperwork. Even though the unionization process isn’t inherently complicated, systemic inequities allow men in power to make it a discouraging labyrinth. The visceral and unrelenting consequences of Shimu’s dignity being erased become harder to witness with each scene. As she approaches her goal, seemingly insurmountable forces conspire to silence her. Their goal is to dehumanize her and shake her confidence, tactics that are applied to many workers in similar positions.
Early in the film, there is a scene in which a core group of women walking to the textile factory continuously expands. One by one, they join an impromptu march in silence. The moment is an effective visualization of strength in numbers and a reminder that there are many more factory workers than factory owners. If the power of these employees can be harnessed, they will be able to take back their futures. The film’s centering of working women’s self-discovery feels like essential counter-programming in a patriarchal, capitalistic world.
IN MY BLOOD IT RUNS
(2020) dir. Maya Newell
Dujuan, the Arrernte Aboriginal boy at the heart of In My Blood It Runs, wants to understand what his existence in Alice Springs, Australia means. His people are displaced even though his immediate surroundings are bursting at the seams with love. The opening moments of the film paint a loving and resilient portrait of his family life. The scenes that follow are complicated and compassionate explorations of why a constant state of alert is necessary. As he grows up, Dujuan is learning that his mere presence represents a generational continuation of resistance.
What Dujuan’s mother wants for him, more than anything, is an actual education. She wants him to understand the colonial forces that will forcefully try to shape his ideas about heroes, villains, and his own humanity. The film centers Dujuan’s own interpretation of the world just as much as it examines the things being projected onto him. It’s heartbreaking to watch his innate connection to the land and air he breathes be thrown into question by the narratives he receives from an institutional education. His family’s constant mode of resistance is largely about remembering that the truth will not be immediately available to them.
Throughout the film, the fullness of Aboriginal people is affirmed. On the streets of Australian cities, large crowds of people chant that Black lives matter. Dujuan openly expresses his desire to be a proud Aborigine. He also wishes that Black kids could simply be left to find their own dreams. His own relationship to the world, outside of the mental and emotional subjugation he is resisting, is one centered on healing and spirituality. His emotional interactions with his environment are just as important as his desire to enjoy being a child. The film is a towering achievement in terms of showing how much the world is set up to deny him those things.
RIVER CITY DRUMBEAT
(2019) dir. Anne Flatté and Marlon Johnson
In Louisville, Kentucky, the River City Drum Corps (RCDC) is an affirming space for Black youth. Their dedicated leader Edward “Nardie” White cares deeply about creating room for artistic expression where American society doesn’t encourage it. His colleagues help him reinforce that Black art and culture are things to embrace and celebrate. To make things as welcoming as possible, RCDC showcases are not judged as competitive events; instead, they are community gatherings that facilitate connections to historically Black colleges and universities.
In addition to impressive sequences of drumming routines and vocal performances, this documentary features touching interviews and intimate tours of Louisville. Questions of systemic racial segregation and economic disparity inform much of what the mentors and students of RCDC see as available options. Music is discussed and understood as an alternative to violence, drugs, and a profound sense of isolation. At one point, young Black people in Louisville are described as “products of the system” while someone who went to college on a vocal scholarship tears up. Even for a person that overcomes systemic boundaries, there is lingering personal guilt about the matter-of-fact rarity of that outcome.
As the face of RCDC for several generations, Mr. White resonates as passionate yet weary given the consistent burdens he shoulders. Even though he has always been an artist and storyteller by nature, he recalls being told repeatedly that Black men can’t make art. He also discusses suffering devastating personal losses related to many things he hopes his mentees will avoid while growing up. Ultimately, his shared vision is for Black people to believe in their boundless potential. It’s admirable to watch him reclaim and create joy where possible while embarking on his own journey of self-discovery.
Nick Bachan is a writer and illustrator based in Texas. His essays, cartoons, and stories explore how people engage with emotions, history, pop culture, and one another.
@nickbachan on Twitter // https://nickbachan.com/