District 9 :: Spacism in the Kasi

There is a raw and maverick quality to the short film Alive in Joburg. Ever seen a prawn Poleepkwa in a bio-suit toss a casspir at a pair of pestering soldiers? Not only did the 2005 project showcase some slick computer-generated imagery but it also put a curious spin on the theme of discrimination by dropping found-footage from the Apartheid era into a story about intolerance towards stranded aliens. South Africa’s subsequent xenophobic attacks bathed the piece in a glow of surrealism and made it even more clever than it was intended to be. The compelling stylistic amalgam earned director Neill Blomkamp a string of jobs to promote the release of Halo 3 and got him earmarked to direct a feature based on the Halo franchise. When the project fell through, Peter Jackson came to the rescue by offering to produce a feature-length re-working of Alive in Joburg. Jackson stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out US$30 million in loose change. Blomkamp went to the kasi and came back with District 9.

Technically a product of New Zealand and the United States, District 9 is set in South Africa in the late twentieth century and features live action shot on location in the townships of Johannesburg. What makes it different to other international productions that exploit South African themes and stories (i.e. Invictus) is that it is directed by someone who grew up in South Africa and features South Africans in the lead roles. The fact that Blomkamp is an ex-South African is significant insomuch as he uses the long arm of science fiction as a tool to engage the Apartheid experience. What else but Blomkamp’s displacement from life in South Africa as well as his need as an immigrant to resolve his South African identity could result in such a schizophrenic rendering of the social and political environment he grew up in?

District 9 has exposure to the SABC of the 1980s written all over it. The mock news footage in the film speaks to white South Africa’s mediated experience of the realities of township life and reminds us that our contemporary understanding of Apartheid “unrest” is predominantly televisual. We tend to forget that township tours in the 80s were restricted to gun-wielding security forces, meaning that life in the slums was imaginary for those who had never been there. The mystery of life in urban squalor has since spawned a genre of films that brings the experience of township life into vivid existence for the international bourgeoisie. While “slumsploitation” has been delivered in racy packages likes City of God, Tsotsi and Slumdog Millionaire, District 9 is by far the most radical township fantasy the world has ever seen.

In a nutshell, District 9 uses a documentary framework (i.e. Carte Blache) to tell the story of a man’s strange biological metamorphosis (i.e. The Fly) and how it facilitates solidarity with a homesick alien (i.e. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial). Wikus van de Merwe (Sharlto Copley) is reminiscent of fictional Afrikaans forebears like the quirky, pathos-driven characters of Leon Schuster and the stammering biologist played by Marius Weyers in South Africa’s most famous contribution to world cinema to date. In fact, District 9 is probably the most profoundly South African film since The Gods Must Be Crazy. Both films use political incorrectness to mock prejudice and both are hinged on novel, captivating premises. However, after an inspired opening sequence that satirises modern life, The Gods Must Be Crazy descends into slapstick banality (albeit great entertainment). Similarly, everything conceptually brilliant about District 9 is told in the six minutes of Alive in Joburg. The allegorical spear at the centre of the feature does deliver some sharp thrusts but can’t support the narrative it’s yoked to and promptly self-destructs. Nevertheless, we do get to see guns that turn people into pasta sauce (which is what most people came for in the first place).

Xenophobia :: Fear of Zen

The word “xenophobia” is fraught with contradiction. It has kidnapped Zen from the realm of enlightenment and tossed it into a world of fear. A word that belongs to the shortest chapter in the dictionary, xenophobia is not only directed toward minorities but is a minority itself. Moreover, when pinned to the atrocities committed by South Africans in May 2008, the word slides from the tongue with clinical detachment.

Xenophobia seems to suggest that a combination of quantifiable conditions can account for violence and murder and evokes a less passionate outcry than the word “racism.” In contrast with racism, xenophobia is seen as an unfortunate result of complex socio-economic influences. In contrast with xenophobia, racism is considered an ethical perversion. Both acts are equally abhorrent yet one term is considerably “sexier” from an editorial point of view than the other.

Xenophobia is far more than the fear of strangers its etymology implies, far more sinister than unflattering assumptions about individuals based on their nationality or physical appearance, far more unfathomable than an innate collective mechanism designed to protect resources. The word is a linguistic cop-out designed to prevent reality from annihilating sanity. As long as we fail to see it as such, this strange brand of indiscriminate targeted violence will continue to elicit a cursory public response.

A little over a week ago, seven Zimbabwe nationals died in a fire in a township near Worcester. Less than seven lines were dedicated to the story on IOL on Monday 23 February. The shack was “allegedly set alight” according to the report. The story reappears on Tuesday 24 February with the announcement of a murder probe via Sapa as well as a xenophobia probe according to an IOL writer.

On Wednesday 25 February, IOL posts a Cape Argus report that states that a suspect is to appear in court and mentions witnesses describing that “youngsters surrounded the shack, armed with knobkerries and sticks.” According to the residents, the uninvited guests “attacked the occupants, locked them in the shack and left them to die in the fire.” Despite the nationality of the victims and evidence of mob violence, police “ruled out xenophobia as the motive behind the attack.”

The latest and most comprehensive online report following the incident appears on a Zimbabwean site on Thursday 26 February. The ZBC News article reports a bungled robbery attempt on two Zimbabwe nationals who sought refuge in “a shack belonging to their compatriots.” The robbers then assembled “a reinforced group of about 10 to 15 people” who “doused the shack with an inflammable liquid that looked like fuel and set it alight.”

The fact that this mysterious story has created such a marginal blip in South Africa’s mediascape is worrisome. Given what occurred in South Africa last year, news like this demands adequate public response and debate. South Africans can’t afford to let even an alleged case of xenophobia escape scrutiny let alone the strange tale recounted above. If what it takes is a new word that strikes real fear into heart of the population, our scribes need to come up with something fast.

Zapiro :: Will Z News Survive?

The evolution of democracy is hinged on people’s ability to shake the cage and when it comes sticking it to the zookeepers, few are as elegantly insubordinate as Jonathan Shapiro. Political cartoonist for the Mail & Guardian and Sunday Times, Zapiro has been in the game for over twenty years. It was during Nelson Mandela’s presidency that he injected himself into the national consciousness with flattering depictions of Madiba. In recent years, however, he has found a nemesis in the form of Jacob Zuma, creating iconic renderings of the President of the ANC with a showerhead protruding from his oddly-shaped cranium.

Last year, Zapiro collaborated on a television concept that has transformed his caricatures into puppets for a mock current affairs show entitled Z News. The idea was given legs at the SABC but has since been mysteriously paralyzed. Some suggest that the show’s uncertain future stems from attempts to censor its political content while others say that it simply lacks broad appeal. Nevertheless, fragments of a pilot episode have generated viral interest on the Internet. Queue Thabo Mbeki performing “I Will Survive” in drag on Idols.

Z News describes itself as “the most fun you can have with latex with your clothes on.” Although it is populated with profoundly South African characters like Godzille, it is by no means an original idea. Britain’s Spitting Image is its key ancestor and, given the fact that the godfather of the genre has spawned so many similar shows internationally, it’s hard to imagine that South Africa’s biggest audiences aren’t ready to exercise their right to mock political authority.

Julius Malema :: DIY Album Covers

“Thought leader” Khaya Dlanga has produced a series of profoundly South African album covers. Julius Malema’s Greatest Hits feature the miscalculated blunders of the President of the ANC Youth League pasted onto COPE election flyers. Albeit work of viral campaigning genius, these randomly snatched quotes do little to concretise the vision of a party that magically materialised no more than four months ago. Instead, COPE is positioned as the party to vote for in order not to vote for the ANC.

COPE can’t have expected to enter the national consciousness on its own two feet. With such little time on its hands, the fledgling party’s campaigning strategy can do little more than brandish an opposition flag and count on novelty appeal. Naturally, hinging its identity on the ANC is what it will take to carve out a piece of South Africa’s political pie. As such, COPE is raking in educated voters who are alienated by what Dlanga describes as Malema’s aptitude for eloquent buffoonery.

Malema certainly does have a knack for lending ammunition to the ANC’s opponents. His skills are such a conspiracy theorist might suggest that he is a COPE mole. If you examine the howler above, a little bit of deconstructive linguistics has a lot to say. Malema employs the zero conditional to express certainty. Put bluntly, the condition is that Zuma is corrupt and the result is that we want him. In a single sentence, Malema maligns Zuma, himself, the ANC and its constituency. Is this an act of suicide or is Malema on a quest to bring down the ANC from within?