APA Top 10: "Poverty Porn" in Asian Cinema

The reception of Slumdog Millionaire in India has reignited an old controversy: that there are films made in Asia which allegedly exploit and exaggerate social problems to appeal to the sensibilities of Western audiences who like to see Asia as a backward third world wasteland. The claim is that these films ignore the host country's technological and economic progress, instead focusing on aspects of society which make the film more profitable internationally. Meanwhile, the counterargument is that taking this argument too far is essentially a form of censorship; after all, asking directors to focus on the positives is akin to state propaganda.

We're not so interested in resolving this debate. If anything, judgment needs to be made on a case-by-case basis. More important is to note that the "airing dirty laundry for all to see" complaint has been going on for decades and occurs throughout the Asian continent, albeit often in different ways. Scapegoating directors and studios is less important to us than acknowledging that the scapegoating happens: that this knee-jerk argument (and counter-argument) is a symptom of Asia's post-colonial relationship with the West. In other words, it's not that there are directors (Asian or otherwise) who sell out their countries; it's that audiences and critics in Asia still feel they're getting the bum deal of an asymmetric power relationship with the tastemakers in LA, New York, Paris, and London. And so they protest.

Here are ten notable examples of "poverty porn," as some of their critics have called such films. (And an example of an analogous Asian American film.) Not all are about poverty; related are films about oppression and degeneracy -- also lightning rods for anxiety. Almost all are about the plights of children. We're not listing the films and their directors to create a blacklist of controversial films, nor do we mean to martyr them for having undergone unjust criticism. We just want to point out the prevalence of this trend -- across history and geography -- and to remind readers that perhaps we need to find a more productive way out of this critical stalemate.

(in chronological order)

The Apu Trilogy (Satyajit Ray, 1955-1959)

Satyajit Ray's entire oeuvre has faced resistance from the Bollywood mainstream (including an especially vocal Nargis) for his humanistic depictions of Bengali poverty, which have made Ray one of the most esteemed auteurs of world cinema amongst film historians and critics.

Salaam Bombay! (Mira Nair, 1988)

With its focus on the Bombay slums -- and its prostitution, poverty, and drug trade -- it's not surprising that Salaam Bombay! fell under suspicion when it won an Oscar nomination for best foreign language film.

Raise the Red Lantern (Zhang Yimou, 1991)

Before he became a national treasure, Zhang Yimou was mainland China's favorite whipping boy for making festival-friendly films about oppressed Chinese women in the early 20th century. The case against Raise the Red Lantern: that it invented exotic rituals for controlling concubines. The case for it: that it was a veiled allegory for the Tiananmen Square Massacre.

Farewell My Concubine (Chen Kaige, 1993)

Zhang Yimou's compatriot Chen Kaige too turned suspecting heads when his film about the plight of opera singers throughout the turmoil of 20th century China shared the grand prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Mainland critics (many of whom didn't even see the film) lambasted Chen for profiting off of tragedy, while Hong Kong critics read his altering of the novel's ending as a way to write Hong Kong out of the story and retain the film's third world aura.

The Joy Luck Club (Wayne Wang, 1993)

Like the book on which it was adapted, The Joy Luck Club was a critical and commercial success. And like the book, Wayne Wang's film was the subject of much controversy in the Asian American community for allegedly selling exaggerated stories of Chinese women's collective struggles against their domineering men.

Cyclo (Tran Anh-hung, 1995)

Cyclo (Golden Lion, Venice Film Festival) has been criticized for its strange depiction of violence in Ho Chi Minh City. But as a Vietnamese living in France, Tran has been a subject of much criticism more generally -- especially from Vietnamese critics who feel he's too much of an outsider to be making films about Vietnamese life.

The Elements Trilogy (Deepa Mehta, 1996-2005)

That Deepa Mehta's "Elements Trilogy" is controversial is a no-brainer. For a country accustomed to song-and-dance fantasies of love and luxury, Mehta's frank depictions of India are not just sobering, they're offensive. Fire has homosexuality, Earth has inter-religious tension, and Water has eight year-old widows forced to massage fat men's disgusting legs. And as with Tran Anh-hung, Mira Nair, and Ruby Yang (see below), the controversy is exacerbated by the fact that Mehta is an outsider making bold statements about the "homeland."

Kim Ki-duk (The Isle, 2000)

Kim Ki-duk is reviled in Korea, but in the international film festival circuit, he's celebrated for his dream-like visions of exotic (i.e. barbaric) sexuality in Korea -- though even Western critics are starting to catch on that Kim might be merely a provocateur for the festival world. (Tony Rayns famously called him a "sexual terrorist.") The Isle has a prostitute and lots of fish hooks. It also has a special prize from the Venice Film Festival.

The Blood of Yingzhou District (Ruby Yang, 2006)

Ruby Yang's Oscar-winning documentary short won accolades around the world, but some Chinese commentators have blamed Yang, not for exploiting China's troubles, but for simply making a sloppy film. Apparently when you're making a documentary about orphan children who contracted AIDS from parents who sell their blood for money, you can get away with mediocre filmmaking.

Slumdog Millionaire (Danny Boyle, 2008)

Not an Asian film per se, but with a world-famous film composer (A.R. Rahman) and popular star Anil Kapoor, Slumdog Millionaire has enough Bollywood credentials to qualify it as an "Indian film" of sorts. That is, until some local critics vehemently disowned it. Enough has been said of the Slumdog mudslinging, so I'll leave it to David Bordwell to sum up the arguments and provide his refreshing way out of the dilemma, in perhaps the smartest piece written on the acclaimed film thus far.
 

Additional contributions by Rowena Aquino