Oh how outraged everyone is getting over the bean spilling going on at the Leveson Enquiry.

Yet looking at phone hacking as a morality tale masks the real background story. As the enquiry is revealing, phone hacking was an act of desperation from an industry that has been dying a slow, undignified death for years.

At the Leveson Enquiry, poacher-turned game-keeper Alastair Campbell delivered a moment of clarity when he focused on why phone hacking happened:

“…the advent of 24-7 news and the internet has forced them [newspapers] to adapt substantially from the role they once played. They are no longer the main providers of news, because major events are now covered instantly and in detail, both news and comment on TV, radio and the web

Editors are under enormous pressure. Journalists are under enormous pressure. In most of the newsrooms, there are fewer of them with more pages and online space to fill, and less time to do it…

…some fear for their very survival.”

The relentless march of the Internet as our du jour information provider has meant all older forms of media have had to adapt. TV and Radio have faired well with a string of innovations keeping them up to speed with the new digital environment.

Newspapers have faired worse. While some have tried to cope by hiding behind pay-walls, other titles have resorted to voyeuristic high impact stories rife with malicious rumour and half truths.  Most have failed to halt their decline.

The numbers say it all. Take a look at News of The World readership figures below from The Guardian. I have superimposed major phone hacking incidents on top of it.

Source: Guardian Datablog 2011

First, the slide coincides with the global internet boom in the 1990s. The decline continues right up until the NoW’s ignominious closure by Rupert in the summer of 2011.

Second, the first confirmed phone hacking incident was of Sara Payne (mother of murdered schoolgirl, Sarah Payne) in 2001, and comes after the long decline in readership described above. The second and third major incidents (Milly Dowler and Prince Harry) also come during similar, marked declines.

My own perusal through the Leveson Enquiry’s witness statements bring up a similar pattern. Hacking emerges at the beginning of the Millennium and gets increasingly frequent as readership figures start to tank. This goes on until the proverbial shit hits fan in and around 2005/2006 – after someone in Buckingham Palace figured out something was up.

In all honesty this is almost juxtaposition, but put the two together and you can come up with a common sense conclusion to the reality of the phone hacking scandal. It was far from a practice that Brooks, Coulson and their ilk took on with enthusiasm. It was more likely a desperate attempt to please the bosses back in New York, justify their jobs, and try in vain to redeem their livelihood’s slow demise.

In a way it’s not outrageous, it’s sad…

This is a review on a section of the French film Les statues meurent aussi (1953), directed by Alain Resnais and Chris Marker, two French filmmakers framed in the Nouvelle Vague that refused to follow the Hollywood industry.

The reason why I have selected this film is because of its contemporary relevance due to its exploration of the notion ‘culture’, which is increasingly challenged and problematic in a world shaped by globalisation.

My aim is to produce a re-reading of the issues approached in the film through the lens of Clifford Geertz’s The Interpretation of Cultures (1973). Les statues meurent aussi is pioneering in its approach to debates that take place decades after its production. It is also my aim to suggest a figure proposed in the film that I would call the ‘voyageur-voyeur’, which explains –although it may not provide an answer- certain questions that come up when studying ‘culture(s)’.

The strong message of the film finds its place from the starting point- an overwhelming voice over dominates the black screen: “Quand les hommes sont morts, ils entrent dans l’histoire. Quand les statues sont mortes, elles entrent dans l’art. Cette botanique de la mort c’est ce que nous appelons la culture”. This reflection on ‘what we call culture’ is the core of Les statues meurent aussi, from a first scene of random sculptures in different locations. “The film depicts the way the [African] statues lost their meaning and were mummified as soon as they were cut off from their active environment and put in European museums as objets d’art”. (Diawara, 1992: 23).

Twenty years after the film, Geertz stated that the hermeneutical approach to culture, which considered it a symbolic system whose elements could be isolated, was misleading because “it locked cultural analysis away from its proper object” (Geertz, 1973: 17). Likewise, Ricoeur believed that context was indispensible to understand the meaning of sentences. (Ricoeur, 1976) Hence, Geertz, Ricoeur and the film are suggesting a loss of ‘authenticity’ of the object of art when it is taken out of context.

However, Geertz affirms that “culture is public… because meaning is public… though ideational, it does not exist in someone’s head; though unphysical, it is not an occult entity”. (Geertz, 1973: 10-13). Although the word ‘meaning’ has been problematized, referred to as something “far from clear and indeed far from culturally neutral” (Hobart, 1982: 40), there are two problematic missing points in the understanding of culture as something public that I would like to highlight.

The distrust in museums as an appropriate space to come across cultures lies, firstly, on its unquestionable organisation of the disorder of things so that they become a public ‘objet d’art’. If it is stated that culture is public, how is it possible to apprehend it and who has the power to do so? Who decides what is displayed? Does art mean the same thing once placed in a museum? Secondly, museums hardly provide an accurate portrayal of cultures because of the erasure of context. One must notice the highlighted shot of placards in the museum- Origine inconnue- under some objects. In much the same way, films in general, and documentary film in particular, are also acts of decontextualization. Narrative is constructed by connecting ideas that were originally disconnected so that once reunified, they deliver a new message. Therefore, it could be argued that the purpose of a documentary film is to provoke questions, to interrogate the object of study and its representation. It is my strong belief that this constant and endless interrogation is a convenient way to encounter reality, since it insists on the interdependence of the subject and the object.

This idea comes to light in the scene depicting patrons gazing in the museum. Un objet est mort quand le regard vivant qui se posait sur lui est disparu » –suggesting that art is not complete without the interpreter.  “Nous la regardons comme si elle trouvait sa raison d’être dans le plaisir qu’elle nous donne ”. On screen, there is a close-up of two European women and a longer one of a black lady staring at an African mask. Then, there is a new narrative block about “L’Afrique: La Terre des Enigmes”. Africa is shown from a distance and approached as the traveller, the ‘voyageur-voyeur’, approaches it on a boat. Following this, there is an innovative montage with the sculptures in an expressionist hard lighting and the movement of the camera replicates the approach of the ‘voyageur-voyeur’. A steady camera moves into the sculptures, and then pans horizontally, never stopping on them because neither does the ‘voyageur-voyeur’.

This film is about observation but also about the appreciation of culture. It links the ‘voyeur’ with the ‘voyageur’. Although etymologically the roots don’t seem to match, since ‘voyageur’ comes from viaticum (via)- to see- and ‘voyeur’ from videre[1] – to ‘search’- the resemblance invites an association of both terms. Voyageur can be replaced by voyeur and one completes the other one. Hence, we can speak about a ‘voyageur-voyeur’ who approaches cultures with the difficulty of his outsider gaze.

In conclusion, this film provokes questions of the limitations of approaching cultures due to the impossibility of reproducing their contexts. My attempt here has been to shed light on various implications and suggest a new object of study: the ‘voyageur-voyeur’.

References:

-       CNRTL: http://www.cnrtl.fr/definition/voyage

-       Diawara, Manthia (1992), African Cinema: Politics and Culture. Chapter III. Indianapolis (USA).

-       Geertz, Clifford (1973) The interpretation of Cultures. N. Y. : Basic Books.

-       Hobart, M. 1982, “Meaning or moaning? An ethnographic note on a little-understood tribe”. In Semantic anthropology. ASA 22, ed. D. J. Parkin, London: Academic Press.

-       Ricoeur, Paul (1976) Interpretation theory: discourse and the surplus of meaning, Fort Worth: Texas Christian Universitiy Press.

Al-Jazeera has recently passed two milestones. The first, on 11 November was the launch of its new Balkans channel. The second, four days later, was the fifth anniversary of Al-Jazeera English. As Al-Jazeera extends its brand to a new regional audience, I find myself thinking about how a brand is created.

The anniversary was marked on the Al-Jazeera English website by a banner over the news. This took you to a page giving a retrospective look at the history of the channel. Uppermost was a video of its first ever broadcast.

It was an unusual register for a news clip. Given that it was five years old, it had no value as news. It was, instead, supposed to mark a point in history: the moment Al-Jazeera hit the English-speaking world. The retrospective feature was branding at its most self-congratulatory; the first broadcast was branding at its most self-conscious.

Whilst Al-Jazeera’s self-image could be considered from a number of angles (political, ethical, social etc.), I want to nominate the aesthetic component of branding for consideration: the look, sound and feel of news. What follows is a string of screen-grabs from Al-Jazeera English and other news channels. The images are meant to foreground the aesthetics of news. They could carry us along without much commentary. That said, I will interject with various prompts as to what might be at stake.

The first thing we see of Al-Jazeera English. The channel is introduced: “Day one in a new era of television news… This is Al-Jazeera.” Cue: launch into animation.

Cities flash up on a spinning globe: Washington, London, Doha, Kuala Lumpur. Looking closely at the still, we can make out a map of the world, reversed, in darker blue, in the background, making the planet appear translucent.

Something swirls into view from behind the camera.

The globe has made one full rotation. The golden shards come into formation over Doha.

It might be worth pausing here to point out various visual tropes: 1. The world seen as if from outer space. 2. The faint vertical bands over the map, indicating some kind of technical measurement (time zones?). 3. The motif swirling in three dimensions, as though unconstrained by gravity, and then coming together like an explosion in reverse. 5. Objects swooping into view from behind the camera, as though the point of vision is caught in the same three-dimensional space. 4. Translucent layers.

The sound track, meanwhile, is cinematic and euphoric, with the underlying pulse of a drum.

Within six seconds, we are back in the newsroom…

… But just before we arrive in front of the green screen, we catch a glimpse of the busy studio: desks, cameras, lighting equipment, people wired into computers. This is a standard trope. It is like a glimpse into the brain of station, a hive of activity and technology.

The two presenters then introduce a long series of live video links, strolling past the screens as they appear behind them.

Authority and trust are partly established at an aesthetic level. Likewise, professionalism is a matter of aesthetics as well as ethics. A broadcast has seconds to signal its place within a set of televisual conventions. This process of framing takes place prior to the direct framing of content. What are its implications?

One function of news aesthetics is to convince us that the newsroom is connected to many other parts of the world in real time. This way we feel connected ourselves. The elements of the clip that I’ve pointed out contribute to this task. They feed off a dispersed phenomenon in popular imagination: the visualisation of cyber-space. They commonly occur on other news channels too. Take, for example, the following screen-grabs from ITV news:

Uncanny similarity.

The point of vision darts between the images, as though in the same three-dimensional space. The same kind of audio track, too: urgent, pulsing drumbeat and a cinematic tone.

Likewise, BBC News:

A new addition: satellite waves expanding from an epicentre.

What does all this prove apart from a lack of imagination in news aesthetics? These are images of globalization, and as such they express a particular view of it. A great variety of models are at play: networks, scapes, flows, clouds, nodes, webs, waves and others. We could read the imagery very closely. But the general sense is, I think, quite easy to articulate. The imagery conveys a euphoric view of globalization: the whole planet is wired in; nowhere is beyond reach; globalisation is dynamic progression fuelled by technology.

This last point can be unpacked further. Technology is represented as a dynamic, enabling force. Here are some more frames from BBC News:

The beam soars over the Thames.

Technology also enters at the periphery of newsroom scenes, as has already been noted in the Al-Jazeera clip. The BBC has its own repertoire of such instances:

Blurred monitors in the background.

At the end of the news report, the camera withdraws very slightly and reveals the lighting rig and camera at the periphery of the frame.

All this imagery presumably arises out of some combination of strategic branding (self-conscious differentiation of a media brand), imitation and banality (graphic designers meeting deadlines). The considerations surrounding it are, I suspect, primarily technical, procedural and tactical. Various videos can be found online advertising newsroom graphics for sale. The aesthetic is sold as a technical facility (see below). However, the moment we consider the imagery’s substantive implications, it appears far from neutral. On the contrary, it begins to look like bald ideology.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The concepts ingrained in news aesthetics (of globalisation, technology and other things) are themselves commodified, and integral to the branding process. There are possibly bones of contention within the subject, for example the presentation of news as entertainment. But it strikes me that there is much shared between organisations that are in other ways divided (e.g. between the BBC and Al-Jazeera). Hence news imagery and its commodification could easily escape scrutiny when they don’t seem to bear directly on content.

To finish with, a clip of Bill Bailey carrying out a solid piece of qualitative analysis of news aesthetics. He says it all so much better.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The lovers (Magritte).

1. Introduction

This dissertation carries out a comparison between East is East (Damien O’Donnell, 1999) and Ae Fond Kiss (Ken Loach, 2004) in order to analyse the influence of multiculturalism in the contemporary notion of Britishness from my non-British point of view.

The structure consists of three chapters. The first one frames the subject and production of the films, while the second one is the core of the social analysis of the film narrative and thus, the longest. It is divided into two subchapters, one per film, with a similar structure: racism, stereotypes, and positive and negative aspects of the mode of narrative. Finally, the conclusion summarises the main aspects of the approach to the subject and invites the reader to formulate their own opinion on the reality in question.

In an increasingly multi-ethnic environment with a high percentage of Asian population, cinema appears as the ideal place to reflect on ideas of nationality and “a crucial arena of cultural contestation”.[1] Life is an ensemble of opposing dualities giving rise to differing social manifestations which are usually taken for granted. However, when it comes to love, life becomes even more complex, since different values clash and questions of national identity will arise. Suddenly a second generation will have to balance opposed coexisting sources of socialization: the Muslim family with an emphasis on loyalty to the community, and the British school and peer group which underline individualism and freedom of choice.

Both films demonstrate the importance of self-criticism and the filmmaker’s cultural background in an approach to the subject. What is seen on the screen is the result of decades of discourses, conferences, debates and social waves that shape the production of films on issues of national identity.

2. Multicultural frame in Contemporary Great Britain. The new British-Asian population.

The United Kingdom is a place where several different communities coexist, English, Irish, Scottish and Welsh, but also South Asian. Over a million Muslims live in Britain, two thirds of whom are of South Asian origin, around 400,000 from Pakistan, 120,000 from Bangladesh and up to 100,000 each from India and East Africa. It is increasingly common to come across different large Muslim communities in towns and cities such as Bradford and Birmingham.[2] This dissertation will particularly focus on Pakistanis settled in Britain seen through its cinema.

Although during the 16^th century many black people came to the country, it was only between the Second World War and the late 1960s that the United Kingdom became multiracial. Some of the immigrants came in search of work while others were just curious and wanted to study in order to have access to better opportunities in their professional and family lives.[3]

They soon decided to remain in the country, bringing with them their cultural traditions, religion and heritage, and rarely thinking of returning to their places of origin.

However, living in a non-Muslim country turned out to be a daunting challenge, especially when it came to bringing up the second generation of Asian families. What happens when two main sources of socialization, home and school, clash or even contradict each other? In addition, the influence of the media and peer groups, reinforce the “Westernization” of the educational system. As a non-British observer, I would suggest that education arguably reproduces the political – and hence economic – structure. Thus, it is highly probable that the study of history or the analysis and approach to everyday matters will be tackled from a Western point of view. It is in the educational system that this diversity has to be taken into account creating critical and active citizens, equipped to face the future – in the multicultural environment that has been built up by this cultural community.

In contrast, it is actually difficult for parents to ignore their experiences and set aside religion, culture and community expectations in order to contribute to the multicultural upbringing of their children. For instance, parental authority, whose main aim is to maintain the unity of the family, goes against the (Western) idea of individuality and the child as someone with intrinsic rights. Furthermore, there is a wider community in Britain apart from that of the family: the “biradiri”, whose centre is in Pakistan. Happiness is understood in terms of family’s well-being, and “individualism” is subordinated to the needs of the community, rather than to an individual ideal of life.[4] “An implication of this is that any outside intervention is seen as an attempt to interfere in the family’s symbiotic processes, and is often resisted and rejected with hostility. This often ends up in a lack of co-operation with social services and a sense of disempowerment for black parents.”[5]

One of the reasons why this happens is the parents’ lack of knowledge or access to social services. However, the strongest reason is emotional, that of the “symbolic universe” (Berger and Luckmann: 1966). Every life experience in the parents’ upbringing in a Muslim context shapes their way of looking at the world, the horizon in which they interact with others and decide what is right or wrong. Suddenly, through living with non-Muslim communities, a wide range of factors must be taken into account. Not only their religion, culture, community influences and the media, but also mainstream society, as well as the legacies of colonialism, immigration and discrimination.

Eventually, this leads to a commonplace social hypocrisy (or versatility) in young people’s behaviour. Depending on their surroundings they adopt different cultural roles. “Yet some young people may not be able to negotiate the boundaries of these different cultures, in a number of cases leading to identity crises or significantly affected self-esteem.”[6] In the following chapter, I will discuss how this climax appears as soon as there is a love relationship and how arranged marriages play a core role in reflecting on national identity and integration.

The strict segregation of the sexes, the control of women, the authority of the father in the family, are the main reasons why Asians are often seen as overly traditional and unwilling to integrate. Second generations though, redefine their behaviour in the British context. It is a matter of negotiating between what is religious and what is cultural.

British contemporary cinema, undoubtedly influenced by its documentary roots in the 1960s, could not miss covering this cutting-edge subject. The question is how accurate these representations are and how decisive the background (and origins) of the filmmaker, as well as further influences such as politics and media, are. For instance, in the 1970s there was a new wave of black people who used the media as a forum to “‘answer back’ to years of verbal negation and visual absence from the British media.”[7] Until then, “the treatment of Black people in the representational field was largely uncoordinated and clumsy.”[8] Other ‘minorities’ like women and gays were in a similar situation, striving to achieve better rights and access to institutions such as the media.

In the 1980s, the public-service television Channel Four had a radical impact on film discourse. This is also the decade of the development of black British independent film workshops and focussing debates around Third Cinema, identity and diasporic experiences. This was the core of any further discussions on race, ethnicity and the media.[9]

In the 1990s, there are two historical dates that determined Asian-British representation in film. 1997 was the fiftieth anniversary of the independence of India and Pakistan and the fourth anniversary of the murder of Stephen Lawrence, the victim of an ugly and brutal form of British racism. 1998 was also the fiftieth anniversary of the arrival of the SS Empire Windrush (22^nd June 1948) with black colonial people who came to Britain on board ship with troops ‘returning to the homeland’, inaugurating post-war mass migration.[10]

Using a comedy, East is East, and a drama, Ae Fond Kiss, I will analyse the social and cultural implications of the films in their definition of contemporary Britishness.

3. Multiculturalism in East is East (Damien O’Donnell, 1999) and Ae Fond Kiss (Ken Loach, 2004)

3.1 Racism in East is East. The use of humour as a strategy of visibilization.

East is East (Damien O’Donnell, 1999) was filmed in October 1998 in the north of Manchester. However, it is set in Salford in 1971. The setting follows a semi-autobiographical plot, based on Ayub Khan-Din’s (the scriptwriter’s) personal life. He and his eight brothers and sister grew up with his Pakistani father and English mother in Salford in the seventies.

This popular comedy-drama has usually been classified as an Asian film “based around a British-Asian family struggling to reconcile liberal and absolutist ideological beliefs.”[11] Nevertheless, the director himself claims that “it’s not a film about Pakistanis for Pakistanis. It’s a film about families for families.” In the same way, Chris Bisson (playing Saleem Khan) argues that it would be horrible to bracket it as an Asian film for an Asian market. The producer agrees, stating that at the end of the day it is about rebellion and parental authority. “And that is the most universal theme I can think of”.[12]

Nonetheless, it cannot be denied that the “discourses of Muslim isolationism, patriarchal authoritarianism, white English racism, and teenage rebellion are all circulating within the narrative.”[13] It explores the notion of Britishness taking into account all the cultural implications of being a second-generation Pakistani born and brought up in England by parents who had a far stricter upbringing.  As a comedy with scenes of intense drama that will be analysed in this chapter, it highlights the racism that prevents this from being just a black and white issue where the choice between a Muslim or Western lifestyle does not affect family or culture.

“Racism is the belief that people who have a different skin colour, nationality or culture are inferior”.[14] This can be shown in several ways. I would like to classify it in two intertwined groups: on the one hand, explicit or implicit, on the other hand, interior or exterior.

The film starts with the participation of the Khan family – the second generation – in a Catholic procession in the neighbourhood. The next scene then introduces a Muslim family getting ready for an arranged marriage. This sets the movie in a multicultural and multi-ethnic space: Salford. However, “ethnicity expresses relationships of both inclusion and exclusion. It is a classification involving a set and its subset.”[15]

Even though the family is integrated within the neighbourhood, there are signs of hostility surrounding some of them. At around 6’30” there is an example of explicit racism, when the Khan family are on their way to the wedding. Stella (Emma Rydal), a blonde English girl, is standing at the door with her grandfather. When she smiles at Tariq (Jimi Mistry) he asks her: “What are you f*cking grinning at?” It is the grandfather who at 49’10” will be promoting Enoch Powell’s speech in town. “A visit which predictably encouraged some local people to become openly hostile to black and Asian ethnic communities.”[16] There will be a further reference to this racism at around 54’14” when Meenah (Archie Panjabi) cheekily kicks the ball into his window and breaks the glass where Enoch Powell’s face was. The neighbour leans out of the window looking like the politician.

The previous shot (the promotion of the speech) is followed by the kiss of Tariq and his neighbour Stella (Emma Rydal) in the yard (49’32”). She tries to be nice, although she sounds racist: “We’re just like Romeo & Juliet. I’ll never leave the colour of your dad come between us. It’s not fair ‘cos I love curry and all.”

On the one hand, she is making a distinction between his and his father’s “race” by not including Tariq in the same “colour”. This suggests that whereas Tariq himself might arguably be identified as English, his father is still considered Pakistani and this has a direct effect on Tariq’s identity and interaction with “the others”. On the other hand, why should “curry” be mentioned? It is just a stereotype that underlines her ignorance of Asian culture.

In contrast to this, there is implicit racism, which is not necessarily verbal but is potentially offensive. (39’15”) This is the case of the scene in the club. Tariq turns into Tony and Abdul (Raji James) becomes Arthur. The adoption of English names introduces them into (Western) society. However, an Asian couple are refused entry just because of their colour. Subsequently, I will be discussing stereotypes as mechanisms with a dual function. While they provide the spectator with a very clear idea of the character, they might hide an implicit racism resulting from certain relationships of power.

On the other hand, the story depicts an exterior racism, from the others towards them, which can be either implicit or explicit. This is the case of the examples of the neighbours mentioned beforehand. Nonetheless, by humorously integrating the family, mainly by showing culture clashes within the family space, the subject can be reflected on. That is to say, the depiction of the family itself, with its supportive English mother and the different opinions of each of the brothers and sister questioning their (national) identities. The following dialogue is from an extra scene that was deleted because the director found it unnecessary. “It delayed our arrival of the climax of the film.” But it was certainly hard to include because of its aggressive racism and it was considered that “humour” might have already dealt with what they wanted to demonstrate.

Abdul is in a pub with some friends. Suddenly a group of black men goes in and Abdul’s friends insult them, making a distinction between him and those “sambos”. This makes Abdul feel very uncomfortable and he wakes up to the fact that he is different from his friends.

Mark: “Banana boat’s in. Better show these guys where the toilets are. Introduce them to the concept of flushing loo. He’s a big bastard. He’s likely scoffed a few shipmates on the way.”

Abdul: “Shut it, eh?”

Mark: “What’s the fucking problem, Gunga?”

Mate 1: “Come on, it was just a joke.”

Mate 2: “He weren’t having a go at you, just the sambos.”

Mark: “Get them in, Gunga!”

Abdul: “Why do you keep calling me Gunga, eh? That’s not my name. What’s my f*cking name? Come on, say my f*cking name!”

Finally, there is also a case of interior racism, based on the refusal of Pakistanis themselves to be “Pakis”. One such example is a comic moment in which young Sajid (Jordan Routledge) shouts “The Pakis are here!” announcing the arrival of the family from Bradford. (1h13’58”) “His mother doesn’t chastise or correct the boy for his language or terminology.”[17] Neither does she do so when Tariq (Jimi Mistry) states (1h2’00”) “You can both f*ck off if you think I’m getting married to a f*cking Paki!” In this way, racism is directly present in the home, even more so because of him being one of the elder brothers. He will repeatedly use this language to refuse the impositions of his father. As for the “traditional” brother, Maneer (Emil Marwa), his siblings nickname him Gandhi for wearing the religious cap and following his father’s values. It has also been argued that, in this way, “the film is seeking to destroy the sacred power and mystique of racist language, by allowing it to be voiced by victims and aggressors alike, implying that no communities are immune from discrimination and hatred, and that any social grouping may on occasion resort to the use of hurtful and offensive comments and viewpoints.”[18]

There is an analogy between the previous idea and that of the use of stereotypes in cinema. These work as an easy form of visualization and recognition of a character with precise destinations and geographic goals. This is a character-centred story where the interrelationships between characters are crucial to the film’s message. It is for this reason that characters are introduced at the very start of the film. While the family is getting ready for the wedding, the spectator recognises the roles of each family relative. Viewers are provided with information relevant to the development of the narrative. For instance, the first shot of Nazir introduces him with his face hidden by a veil. This could be interpreted as crisis or lack of identity.

At the end of the day, characterization in the film conforms to well-rehearsed cultural stereotypes. The first question we need to tackle is how realistic and representative they are. For example, it is hard to believe that all Pakistani fathers want their sons to be engineers. In East is East Saleem (Chris Bisson) is described as an engineer while everyone knows he is an art student. At around 33’12”, there is a shot of men and women, who were all seen together in the previous shot (31’48”), eating separately, as is quite common in Muslim culture. However, the fact that the world of women wearing colourful traditional clothes and veils in contrast to the working class neighbourhood where they live is a “paradise” for the father, leads us to think that it is also an ideal interior stereotype of a Muslim community which is no longer this traditional in actual fact. Music plays a core role in this recreation of that paradise. Whenever there is a desire to highlight Asian culture, Asian music is featured to reinforce the atmosphere, with the scene reaching a climax in Bradford, or “Bradistan” as is written on the road. (30’48”) Bradford is actually a place with a large Muslim population. George Khan (Om Puri) would like to move there. When the family visits it on a daytrip they are impressed by the amount of Pakistani people. (31’25”) “There are hundreds of them” Sajid (Jordan Routledge) says. He does not include himself in that community whereas George wants to belong to it. Again, art underlines the culture with the projection of the Pakistani movie at around 37’35”.

The figure of the father is of profound significance. His role is that of a patriarchal Pakistani father who struggles to maintain Muslim tradition in his family. Married to an English woman (his second wife) for 25 years and living in England since 1937, he runs a fish & chip shop and tries to bring up his British-Asian children with Muslim values. He attends the mosque (9’44”, 24’32”), listens to the news from Pakistan (on the radio, at around 12’00”) and has a love of Eastern jewellery, watches and fabrics (48’06”).

This decision includes the circumcision of his sons and the arranged marriages that are questioned by his wife and rejected by his sons. In fact, the film starts with Nazir’s wedding, which does not take place because he runs away. His action brings shame upon the family and he is rejected by his father. His portrait disappears (9’20”) from the living-room and George pretends he is dead. The rest of the family go along with this in their everyday life, although whenever there is a critical moment, they refuse to accept this lie. For example, (44’33”) when George and Ella (Linda Bassett) are having an argument about the arranged marriages for Tariq and Abdul, they say:

George: “He dead”.

Ella: “No, he’s not. He’s living in Eccles”.

On various occasions, the clash of cultures represented by the different values between Ella (Linda Bassett) and the children on the one hand, and George on the other, will lead to a shocking dramatically-charged scene of domestic violence, especially at 59’30”, where George has been violent towards Maneer (Emil Marwa) after discovering the destruction of the goods for the weddings. Ella refuses to participate in the arrangement of those marriages because of his “pig bloody ignorance”. Then he attacks her and Sajid (Jordan Routledge) cries from outside the house while dramatic music plays in the background. This is followed by silent tension in the family, with the only sound coming from the television: a close-up of the TV, then Tariq, Abdul and the two victims of the attack, Ella and Maneer. The father is standing in his room. It is hard to justify the silence of these repeated aggressions as tolerance and respect for George’s Muslim values. Tariq decides to take over the situation and meet Nazir (Ian Aspinall), the eldest brother, to take him home in order to confront his father.

“Stereotypes, in themselves, are not necessarily offensive or harmful, but the interest they can serve and the context in which they can be used have the potential to be precisely that.”[19] Since the primary audience for British cinema is still positioned as white, and furthermore, since the leaders of “the market” are also white, it is highly likely that such simplification or over-characterization involves connotations of unequal relations of power or even racism. At the end of the day “those in control of media output shape how audiences view race”.[20]

Even though the plot is based on fact and there was a Muslim advisor during the production of the film, certain actions – such as the scene at the nightclub where they decide to adopt English names – might still prompt the spectator to think in a predominantly Western way. In a less “aggressive” way, the portrait of the two Pakistani sisters from Bradford (1h15’16”), who George Khan (Om Puri) wanted to marry off to his sons, is another cliché of traditional Pakistani women that does not correspond to reality. In fact, the director admits that he went “too far with those teeth” because they were not natural. “If I could change it I would. They were actually beautiful girls.”[21]

On the other hand, it is interesting how “very English” habits work as Pakistani stereotypes in the movie. The family runs a fish and chip shop (the façade is shown at 50’23”). This typically English business is actually often run by Pakistani people. Secondly, “English tea”, which in this movie, serves as a ritual for the Pakistani family: a peaceful moment with no troubles where people get together to talk. In the scene with the visitors from Bradford, tea is also used to relax the tension.

The permeability of the cultural boundaries in East is East has generally been approached in terms of humour. This choice has led to differing evaluations of the film in its exploration of the cultural, ethnic and, especially, in the national identity of its characters. “James Christopher of The Times interpreted East is East as a ‘gleefully irreverent comedy’, which nonetheless presented a ‘flinchingly real’ depiction of a ‘bruising culture clash’. Christopher Tookey in the Daily Mail, however, suggested that it possessed that ‘treasurable Ealing-comedy quality of helping to redefine Britishness.”[22]

Most of the stereotypes in the film are actually used as a vehicle to mask relationships of power under the guise of humour. As has been mentioned before, they could “reinforce social divisions around unhelpful and pernicious notions of ‘otherness’”.[23] This is the case of the caricature of the two Pakistani women from Bradford (1h15’16”). Their over-exaggerated features make not only the family but also the (white) spectator laugh. “Cary Rajinder Sawhney in an essay ‘Another Kind of British: An Exploration of British Asian Films’ (Cineaste, 2001) noted that East is East ‘was perceived by some parts of the [Asian] community as reinforcing negative stereotypes of Moslems (and Asians generally), raising the old question of whether they are laughing with us (Moslems) or at us’.”[24]

At 20’36” there is another comic scene in which some of the brothers and Meenah were eating bacon and sausages, something forbidden by the Muslim law. As soon as the father arrives, they spray the house with “curry powder”, “the typical Eastern smell”. In fact, some of the actors did not eat meat, not for religious reasons but because they were vegetarian. The sausages were actually veggie.

Meenah has one of the most humorous attitudes in the family. On their way to Bradford she even made fun of her father. She is very lively and expresses her freedom and Westernization with “male behaviours”. She plays football (10’12”) and uses this to confront her neighbour’s racism when she breaks the window with Enoch Powell’s poster (54’08”). In this way, Om Puri (who plays George Khan) states about East is East: “it’s almost like Chaplin films, making you laugh and yet dealing with serious situations”.[25] As mentioned earlier, the director wished to avoid the explicit representation of racism. The normalization of racist attitudes through the use of humour does not detract from the seriousness of the issue. Some critics argue that it also “reproduces the categories and relations of racism (…) The time may come when blacks and whites can tell jokes about each other in ways which do not reproduce the racial categories of the world in which they are told. The time, in Britain, is certainly not yet arrived.’[26] However, I would like to point out that the parodic ridiculization of the two English girls, taken with internal criticism from the family itself, help to recreate a more moderate atmosphere.

3.2 Racism in Ae Fond Kiss. The realism of the drama genre.

In contrast to the humorous multi-character East is East, Ae Fond Kiss (Ken Loach, 2004) depicts a dramatic love story between an Irish woman and a Pakistani man.

Multiculturalism is equally present from the start. Eastern music in a nightclub with a multi-ethnic crowd opens the story. This music acts as transition to the establishing shot, a horizontal pan to the right framing the action in Glasgow. The first scene introduces the viewer to one of the principal supporting characters: Tahara (Shabana Bakhsh). “I reject the West’s simplification of a Muslim.”  Her strong personality is conspicuous in every aspect of her life throughout the film. A blackboard, with the barely legible motion “This House Believes that the West’s Campaign Against International Terrorism Is Fully Justified” appears in the background.

“The use of hyphenated identities is common in Scotland.”[27] “I am a Glaswegian, Pakistani, teenager, woman, woman of Muslim descent who supports Glasgow Rangers in a Catholic school.” This is the self-definition Tahara offers her classmates after explaining that her father has been in the country for over forty years and is 100% Pakistani.

Ae Fond Kiss explores how international macroevents explicitly or implicitly influence contemporary notions of Britishness within a multicultural context. Paul Laverty, the screenplay writer, sets the starting point for the script as the 11^th September 2001, the date when every Asian was associated with Bin Laden. “People weren’t murdered, but one of my friends from a traditional Muslim background told me her niece, who was born in Glasgow, was scared to go out. (…) It made me want to examine what was going on.”[28]

Although the director claims that racism is not at the core of the story, the film cannot separate it from the development of the conflict. For instance, the initial scene is followed by an explicit and exterior form of racism between Tahara and her classmates. “Nothing worse than an uptight Paki”, (4’43”) one of them says. They even spit on their car and she runs towards them in fury. There is another reference to exterior racism further on (1h22’18”). Casim (Atta Yaqub), one of the main characters is having an argument with Roisin (Eva Birthistle) trying to justify his parents’ refusal to accept their relationship:

Casim: “Have you ever had a group of kids chasing after you making monkey noises? I don’t think so. You have any idea how many times he [Casim’s father] had to keep his mouth shut? The humiliation, the insults he’s been through? (…)

Roisin: Ok, so there’s racist bastards out there. (…) That’s not fair, Casim. It’s not my fault.

Casim: And it’s not my family’s fault if they’re treated like Pakistani foreigners.

In fact, this was not just Casim’s opinion. Almost at the end of the movie (1h32’19”), when he meets his fiancée from Pakistan and he refuses to talk to or marry her, this causes a quarrel with his father Tariq, who argues:

“You could be with them 100 years. They’ll still call you black bastard. Right? You’re still the same to them.”

Tariq Khan (Ahmad Riaz) cannot separate Roisin from them, the white people who were racist towards him and his community. From his point of view, the knowledge of Casim’s relationship brings shame on the izzat (family honour).

Nevertheless, I would suggest that more interesting is the kind of racism associated with the arrival of music teacher Roisin Hanlon (Eva Birthistle), a young Irishwoman who has moved to Glasgow to live with a man she is no longer with. Although she is Irish, nobody is racist towards her because she is white. “Often overlooked is the way in which the ‘White’ communities are homogenized for the purposes of research which takes little account of the differences within the ‘White’ category”.[29] At around 12’35”, when Casim’s friends are delivering the piano to her flat, one of them asks “Are you Irish?”, and there is no racist reaction. This is undoubtedly a case of implicit (exterior) racism and direct exclusion of certain ethnic groups such as Asians in particular or black people in general.

The predictable romance between Roisin and Tahara’s brother Casim (Atta Yaqub) will be the focus for a discussion on cultural boundaries. The “joke” of Roisin ducking in the car when he is giving her a lift (11’04” and 1h03’47”) is a premonition of further family tensions that will hinder the relationship, reaching a climax with the infuriating scene with Rukhsana (Shabana Bakhsh) in the car with Roisin while a meeting between Casim and his fiancée Jasmine (Sunna Mirza) is staged.

Casim is a young Glasgow man whose parents were both born in Pakistan. At the beginning of the film, he is happily engaged to his cousin Jasmine. However, meeting Roisin will change his mind. She has already been married and Casim is surprised by the fact that she is still on speaking terms with her ex-husband. “What about companionship?” (35’40”) Roisin, “I just need more.” This crucial dialogue is set in Spain, where the couple will go through a crisis with Casim’s announcement that he is supposed to marry his cousin in nine weeks. When Roisin gets angry he promises to cancel the wedding. “It’ll probably blow my family apart. But what the f*ck?” (42’55”) This was not to be so easy. To her disappointment, he finds himself unable to say the words. (49’03”)

Casim: It will break their hearts. It will destroy them.

Roisin: (…) Do you love her?

Casim: You don’t understand. It’s not about love. It’s much more than that.

In Ae Fond Kiss the sense of community is very strong and this is the main point surrounding the love story. Casim will have to go to great lengths to try to challenge his parents and tell them about his relationship with the “goree”. “For most Pakistanis there is no natural separation of the individual from his/her family and this can have a positive or negative impact.”[30] Casim’s indecision will continuously upset Roisin and even irritate the viewer. Finally, he decides to live with her, which is a major decision. “Despite the domestic situation few ‘get up and leave’ the family home or completely break ties. Of those who decide to leave the family home most will return to the fold sometime later.”[31] In a way, this is what happens to Casim because of the frequent arguments arising from cultural difference and the pressure of the community. (42’30”) “Should, should, should. The story of my f*cking life”. The ending will be very drastic. Casim refuses to talk to Jasmine (Sunna Mirza) and he goes and lives “forever” with Roisin.

Interior racism is less frequent than in East is East and tends to arise more often in the partner rather than in Casim’s family home. They usually speak in Urdu to each other in contrast to the children in East is East who could barely speak a word. Casim’s close relationship with his Pakistani mother Sadia (Shamshad Akhtar), who tends to speak in Urdu, demonstrates a high interest in retaining this part of his identity. This is a question Asian parents have to face. Children have to be able to communicate with all generations in their family and, at the same time, to operate in the language of the majority society, which is English.[32] Whenever an important issue comes up, religious or not, Urdu is more frequent between children and parents. For example when Casim confesses to his mother that he no longer wants to go ahead with the arranged marriage. (55’48”)

Rather than interior racism it could be argued that there is internal criticism of certain cultural aspects. For example, the father is accused of not asking but telling. This does not just happen at the end with Casim and Tariq’s final quarrel but also when Tahara announces she has been offered an unconditional place at Edinburgh University. When the father asks her “What is the community gonna say?” (51’44) she complains: “It’s not fair. I’m gonna miss out on a whole different life.  I don’t want that!” She does not give up. At the end of the movie, it is her that tells and does not ask. “I just want you to know that I really want to go. And I’m going to go.” She also refuses to stop speaking to Casim. “I can’t not speak to him. He’s my brother.” As a sign of reconciliation and success of the “dialogue” she says in Urdu: “You’ve both given me a lot. I’ll give you a lot back.”

In opposition to Tahara’s braveness, there is also the case of second-generation young people who lead a hypocritical lifestyle. For instance, Casim’s friend Hamid (Shy Ramsan), who has been living with a British woman for seven years, while his parents think he is with a bunch of friends. Besides, when he is discussing Casim’s dilemma with him (should there be a dilemma between family or love?) he encourages him to marry his fiancée and then do whatever he wants.

Casim: Why am I supposed to marry someone I don’t know?

Hamid: Just do it. You’ve got a family to think about (…) You’re being stupid if you think for a minute everyone is going to understand. (…) She’s a white girl. She’s not a Muslim.

This is an example of how for them there is no point trying to talk to their families or communities and reach an agreement. Obviously this does not seem the solution to the problem.

Then, although Casim criticises his father’s authority, he behaves in a patriarchal way towards his sister when he finds out that she is at the same pub as he is (17’34”).

Casim: What the f*ck are you doing here?

Tahara: Well, what do you think? I’m only with my mates, like you are.

Casim: Leave. You’re not hanging about here, dressed like that, in front of me.

This sexism highlights the similarities of different personalities based on gender rather than on culture. There are still many Western men who bother about their women’s clothes and appearance, and as happens in this film with Casim, this is taken for granted. At the same time, the idea of the man as the saviour of the lady, in the first scene when Tahara is in trouble at school, is also quite Western.

During the preproduction phase, Paul Laverty discovered several parallels between the experiences of Catholics and Muslims. “When Catholics first came to Scotland 150 years ago they were seen as aliens with a loyalty to something foreign to the indigenous population. Drunken Protestants would go and beat them up. And now we’re demonising asylum seekers…”[33] Tahara, like many other Muslims in Great Britain, is in a Catholic school, the same school that will fire Roisin for “living in sin”. This is the second nuance of high interest in the female main character. The film not only shows the extremes of Muslim religion but also those of Catholicism.

This problem first appears at around 30’17”, although Roisin cannot imagine the extent of it. Miss Hanlon is offered a permanent position at the school. However, the priest refuses to sign her Certificate of Approval (at around 1h11’19”) in a very tense and rude argument which some Catholics might find offensive, possibly questioning whether he was really behaving like a Christian by talking like that. “You think you can go to bed with any Tom, Dick or Mohammed and teach wee Catholic children?” This preposterous reasoning is ignored by the headmaster, who decides to hire her. His decision earns the disapproval of the church and she is suddenly forced to change to a non-Catholic school.

As for the stereotypes in the movie, they are less explicit than in East is East. For instance, as regards arranged marriage, although both families observe the same ritual of tea, dressing up traditionally when meeting. The groom-to-be, Amar (Pasha Bocarie) is handsome, clever and attractive even to the youngest sister. Moreover, there are several meetings before the engagement is settled. Nevertheless, the conversation topics are very similar: education. Amar is studying Molecular Biology at Manchester and Rukhsana is introduced as the best daughter, “smart, sophisticated and domesticated, and she’s done a degree in Psychology.” (21’15”) Casim, for his part, has a degree in Accounting and Tahara is going to be a doctor, a statement she corrects and says “journalist”. It is also mentioned that Casim is going to marry his cousin Jasmine and, at this point of the story, he is quite happy with the idea. The desire to impress the other family is undoubtedly less forced than in East is East.

The father, whose surname is the same as George’s in East is East (Khan), is also the head of the family, caught up in his enthusiasm to build an extension for Casim and his continuous references to the community. He works in an “off-licence” shop, a job similar to the fish and chip shop in East is East, both occupations quite frequent among Pakistanis living in the United Kingdom.

It is the realism of the narrative that leads to the reflection on the multicultural identity and authenticity of the characters. Ken Loach has been working on documentaries for decades and this background has been vital to this drama. It has been argued that his film techniques are similar to those used in observational documentary, where the filmmaker just observes what happens in front of the camera without intervening, in order to reveal aspects of the characters and their individualities.

However, if in documentaries there is already that question of “how much of what we see would be the same if the camera were not there or how much would differ if the filmmaker’s presence were more readily acknowledged”[34], this is even more relevant in the case of fiction. There are scripts, roles, settings, and reactions to be completed. However, a range of different devices has been used to provide wider realism to the actions. For instance, technical: no dollies or steady-cams, just tripods, in order not to interfere with the performance. He also uses chronological shooting, as opposed to following the norm of filming by location, in order to increase the credibility and natural performance of the actors. As for the script, it is provided the evening before the actual shoot to make the reactions more spontaneous and vulnerable. “The first time you speak the lines is the first take.” Eva Birthistle states. “And you don’t know what your co-actor is going to say because they might change it – you’re told not to learn the scenes by heart but to be familiar with them. It keeps that feeling of spontaneity because you’re not sure what tangent a scene might take.”[35]

In addition, the actors are not professional (except for Shabana Bakhsh and Eva Birthistle). They are all united by their accent. The main part of the rehearsal consisted in behaving like a family in order to get used to the roles. As for the script writer, he spent a lot of time with people from the same backgrounds as his characters.

In this way, Ae Fond Kiss is more than the Romeo & Juliet story it has been presented as. It shows a contemporary aspect of Great Britain and reflects on how it affects both sides: Pakistani families in general, second-generation Pakistanis particularly, and the British people they co-habit with.

4. Conclusion: the pillars of multiculturalism in Contemporary British Cinema.

The previous analysis has shown that when it comes to speaking about multiculturalism in contemporary British cinema there are certain leitmotivs which I would like to highlight when summing up this reflection on multiculturalism in the movies: arranged marriages, second-generation immigrants and national identity.

“Pakistani community is much more than just about (forced) arranged marriages.”[36] However, it cannot be denied that both films use it as the decisive factor on family, and identity crisis. In the end, it is love that is the core factor for defining one’s identity, probably because it is the most profound example of the cohesion of relationships. Man is a social individual who is nothing without interaction with others, even if that means ignorance or rejection. In an industry that works with the identification of the viewer with the characters, the emotional device is used to reach the rational argument.

East is East is based around three failed arranged marriages, while in Ae Fond Kiss there is one successful and another one failed: Casim’s. Attitudes towards this tradition share common aspects. Although Pakistanis born in Great Britain would like their parents to respect their choice, at the same time, they want their parents to take part in the selection. This is reflected by Rukshsana in Ae Fond Kiss, who is very happy with her final choice and tries to persuade Roisin that some of these arranged marriages work. On the other hand, the right to choose tends to challenge paternal authority and leads to problems within the family and community. Because “marriage is not just seen as a union between two people but a union between families.”[37] It is the bedrock of the Pakistani community. It is not that Pakistani young people reject marriage, but that they would like to marry someone that they love, be it arranged or not.

“For many Pakistani parents a bride or groom from Pakistan re-enforces traditional values and the authority of the husband and the loyalty to the biradiri.”[38] This idea is embodied in George Khan’s determination to arrange marriages for his sons with Pakistani people from Bradford and therefore be respected by the community. In a similar way, Tariq Khan in Ae Fond Kiss confirms the stereotype of Pakistani parents thinking that eth-tha nay gor-ia luggar (girls from Britain are immoral) and outha nay goria changia (girls from Pakistan are loyal and respectful).[39]

As for the sons, they are aware that the only way to change their parents’ attitudes depends on them, “whether through communication or conflict”.[40] This second generation of Pakistanis are caught between two different cultures and are therefore part of many different social, religious and cultural identities.[41] “If you’re second generation your identity may be very British, but you will also have many influences from your parents’ culture.”[42] While most of them consider Islam as an important feature of their cultural identity, not many would say they are religious. Being Muslim is more a cultural thing than it is religious and that is why not much attention is paid in films to the attendance of these young people at the mosque.

On the other hand, both movies present children and teenagers “more culturally integrated and at ease with each other than the adults.”[43] For example, Meenah in East is East is shown accompanied by two white girls on her way home from school.

But, how British is this generation? As is reflected in the Bradford Commission report (1996), there is no term that refers accurately to them, as well as an institutional difficulty in describing them in terms of national identity.[44]

“I am a Glaswegian Pakistani teenager, woman, woman of Muslim descent, who supports Glasgow Rangers in a Catholic school.”  This self-description by Tahara in Ae Fond Kiss conveniently approaches the complexity of the subject. During my research, one of the readings defended that “they are, and describe themselves as, British”[45], which is a non-specific simplification of it. It added that “being Pakistani is just another way of being British, in the same way that one is English and British or Scottish and British or Irish and British or Welsh and British.”[46] An example of its lack of rightness or authenticity can be found in Ae Fond Kiss, where there is no racism towards Roisin despite her Irish nationality just because she is white. Such is the case in East is East when, in order to go into the club, they adopt English names instead of the Pakistani ones.

“The term ‘Pakistani-born English’ should be a more appropriate term.”[47] even though it has also been considered that ‘Asian’ is another appropriate term.  However, Tahara (53’46”) describes her generation as Western: “We’re Western. I’m sorry but we’re not from Pakistan.” In the same way, Tariq, in East is East, talking to his father – like Tahara in the previous example – argues: “Dad, I’m not Pakistani. I was born here. I speak English, not Urdu.” In fact, language is a determining factor in shaping identity. Therefore, the term ‘Asian’ could make these young people “‘feel’ that even though they were born in Britain they are still regarded as ‘Asians’ and not British.”[48]

As for the use of drama or comedy, it has been observed that the humour leads to a higher level of caricaturization that could in turn lead to a simplification of a complex reality and an implicit kind of hidden racism in the viewer. However, this does not mean that it is impossible to reflect on the subject or that it could be a way of demystifying racist language and challenging this over-euphemistic society. Besides, it introduces relevant aspects of the Pakistani community living in Great Britain. In fact, there is a very interesting illustration of hybridization of cultures in the scene where Meenah dances in an Asian style while her brother is cutting fish for the fish and chip shop.

The drama, for its part, setting aside the love story that we might like or dislike, shows the other side of the reality, where on the one hand, there are actually young people happy with the idea of reproducing cultural Muslim traditions such as the arranged marriage; and on the other hand, there are rebellious teenagers trying to handle these cultural differences with their parents in order to achieve a multiculturalism where the best of each culture coincides in the construction of their lifestyles and hence identity.

5. Bibliography

-       Books:

1. Brunsdon, Charlotte (2000) ‘Not Having It All: Women and Film in the 1990s’, in Murphy, Robert (2000) British Cinema of the 90s, London: British Film Institute.
2. Daniels, Therese and Gerson, Jane (1989) The Colour Black, London: British Film Institute.
3. Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited.
4. Firth, Lisa (2009) ‘Racial and Ethnic Discrimination’ in Independence, volume 172, Cambridge: Series Editor, Educational Publisher.
5. Hall, Stuart (1992), ‘New Ethnicities’, in Donald, James and Rattansi, Ali (1992) Race, Culture and Difference: Sage.
6. Karen, Alexander (2001), ‘Black British Cinema in the 90s: Going Going Gone’, in Murphy, Robert (2001) The British Cinema Book, London: British Film Institute.
7. Lyon, Wenonah (1997) ‘Defining Ethnicity: Another Way of Being British’, in Modood, Tariq and Werbner, Pnina (1997) The Politics of Multiculturalism in the New Europe: Zed.
8. Malik, Sarita (1996) ‘Beyond a Cinema of Duty’ in Higson, Andrew (1996) ‘Dissolving views’: Cassell.
9. Malik, Sarita (2002) ‘Race and Ethnicity’, in Briggs, Adam and Cobley, Paul (2002) The Media: An Introduction: Longman.

10. Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press.

11. Murphy, Robert (2000) British Cinema of the 90s, London: British Film Institute.

12. Nichols, Bill (2001) Introduction to Documentary, Indiana University Press. Chapter 6: What types of Documentary are There? pp. 99-139.

13. Titley, Gavan and Lentin, Alana (2008) The Politics of Diversity in Europe, Council of Europe, January 2008.

14. Willeman, Paul (1994) ‘Looks and Frictions’, London: British Film Institute.

-       Articles:

1. ‘Hello Mr Chips’, in Sight and Sound, November, 1999, available online at (01.04.10):

http://www.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/review/236

1. Roy, Amy (24.05.09): ‘East and West come together in Cannes’, in The Telegraph, available online at (01.04.10): http://www.telegraphindia.com/1090524/jsp/7days/story_11011484.jsp
2. Article: ‘In the mood for love’, in Sight and Sound, March, 2004, available online at (26.04.10): http://www.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/feature/56

-       Films:

1. East is East (Damien O’Donnell, 1999)
2. Ae Fond Kiss (Ken Loach, 2004)

[2] Hall, Stuart (1992), ‘New Ethnicities’, in Donald, James and Rattansi, Ali (1992) Race, Culture and Difference: Sage. p. 260

[3] Malik, Sarita (2002) Representing Black Britain: A History of Black and Asian Images on British Television, Sage. Pp. 12

[4] Hall, Stuart (1992), ‘New Ethnicities’, in Donald, James and Rattansi, Ali (1992) Race, Culture and Difference: Sage. p. 264

[5] Titley, Gavan and Lentin, Alana (2008) The Politics of Diversity in Europe, Council of Europe, January 2008. pp. 143-155

[6] Titley, Gavan and Lentin, Alana (2008) The Politics of Diversity in Europe, Council of Europe, January 2008. pp. 143-155

[7] Malik, Sarita (2002) ‘Race and Ethnicity’, in Briggs, Adam and Cobley, Paul (2002) The Media: An Introduction: Longman. pp. 314-315

[8] Malik, Sarita (2002) ‘Race and Ethnicity’, in Briggs, Adam and Cobley, Paul (2002) The Media: An Introduction: Longman. pp. 314-315

[9] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 316

[10] Malik, Sarita (2002) Representing Black Britain: A History of Black and Asian Images on British Television, Sage. p. 7

[11]Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press.

[12] Special features on DVD

[13] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 99

[14] Firth, Lisa (2009) ‘Racial and Ethnic Discrimination’ in Independence, volume 172, Cambridge: Series Editor, Educational Publisher. p. 1

[15] Lyon, Wenonah (1997) ‘Defining Ethnicity: Another Way of Being British’, in Modood, Tariq and Werbner, Pnina (1997) The Politics of Multiculturalism in the New Europe: Zed. p. 187

[16]Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 106.

[17] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 107

[18] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 107

[19] Malik, Sarita (2002) ‘Race and Ethnicity’, in Briggs, Adam and Cobley, Paul (2002) The Media: An Introduction: Longman. p. 311

[20] Malik, Sarita (2002) ‘Race and Ethnicity’, in Briggs, Adam and Cobley, Paul (2002) The Media: An Introduction: Longman. p. 308

[21] Special features on DVD.

[22]Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 68.

[23] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 69

[24] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 69

[25] Special features on DVD.

[26] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 69

[27] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 72

[28] ‘In the mood for love’, in Sight and Sound, March, 2004, available online at (26.04.10): http://www.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/feature/56

[29]Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 71

[30] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 101

[31] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 101

[32] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 72

[33] ‘In the mood for love’, in Sight and Sound, March, 2004, available online at (26.04.10): http://www.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/feature/56

[34]Nichols, Bill (2001) Introduction to Documentary, Indiana University Press. Chapter 6: What types of Documentary are There? pp. 99-139.

[35] ‘In the mood for love’, in Sight and Sound, March, 2004, available online at (26.04.10): http://www.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/feature/56

[36] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 139

[37] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 140

[38] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 143

[39] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 144

[40] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 141

[41] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 72

[42] Firth, Lisa (2009) ‘Racial and Ethnic Discrimination’ in Independence, volume 172, Cambridge: Series Editor, Educational Publisher. p. 29

[43] Mather, Nigel (2006) Tears of Laughter: Comedy-Drama in 1990s British Cinema, Manchester: Manchester University Press. p. 106

[44] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 71

[45] Lyon, Wenonah (1997) ‘Defining Ethnicity: Another Way of Being British’, in Modood, Tariq and Werbner, Pnina (1997) The Politics of Multiculturalism in the New Europe: Zed. pp. 189-190

[46] Lyon, Wenonah (1997) ‘Defining Ethnicity: Another Way of Being British’, in Modood, Tariq and Werbner, Pnina (1997) The Politics of Multiculturalism in the New Europe: Zed. p. 193

[47] Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 71

[48]Din, Ikhlaq (2006) The New British: The Impact of Culture and Community on Young Pakistanis, Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. p. 71

Estrella Sendra

Contemporary British Cinema. Course Convenor: Andy Medhurst. School of Media, Film and Music. University of Sussex 2010.

For those in and around London next week, you may be interested in a forthcoming event on documentary practices from India, including screenings, conversations and discussions on the theory and practice of selected films and filmmakers, from India and beyond. There will be circa 21 screenings, 7 filmmakers and many film specialists present in the post-screening talks.

The event was initiated by Magic Lantern (Delhi) as part of their 4th year of ‘Persistence/Resistance’ Documentary film festival. The London edition has been made possible through the collaboration of Goldsmiths, SOAS, LSE, University of Westminster and Brunel University.

Dates: 1st to 8th November
Locations: Nehru Centre London, University of Westminster, SOAS, Goldsmiths and LSE

Please find the schedule, session descriptions, information on films and participants via this link:
http://magiclanternfoundation.org/persistence-resistance-in-london/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=210913178975864

All are welcome and all events are FREE !

The Distribution Forum is our unique event to bring together African and UK-based filmmakers from the diaspora with leading UK-based film distributors. It is an open workshop, free to the public where practical advice on different methods of distributing films (mainstream, arthouse, film festival, online and self-distribution) will be discussed, with advice offered from experts in the field.

Speakers include

- Moses Babatope – Special Projects Manager, Odeon Cinemas: UK theatrical releases for Nollywood movies
- Nadia Denton – Author of Black British Filmmaker’s Guide to Success (2011); former director of BFM festival
- Ailsa Ferrier - Head of Acquisitions, Artificial Eye
- Afolabi Kuti – Acquisitions Manager, The Salt Company
- Rungano Nyoni – Zambian/British filmmaker, Director of The Festival Office
- Jezz Vernon – Head of Distribution, Metrodome Distribution
- Dominique Young - Senior Producer, Al Jazeera

Film aficionados, please be sure to check out Film Africa 2011, taking place 3rd – 13th November at various London cinemas and co-organised by SOAS Senior Lecturer Lindiwe Dovey.

Film Africa boasts:

10 days of more than fifty of the best African fiction and documentary films from across the continent.

Lively Q&As and panel discussions featuring leading African filmmakers, and a dynamic programme of cultural events.

Highlights include:

• A special focus on African women filmmakers
• Twenty filmmakers and actors in attendance
• The Distribution Forum and The Silver Baobab Award for Best Short African Film
• Film Africa LIVE! with performances from some of London’s most exciting musicians and DJs

For more information visit http://www.filmafrica.org.uk/

Frustrated with the mainstream media’s coverage of war, climate change and the economy, or already making your own media? Interested in acquiring new skills or finding out more about exciting radical media projects from around the world? Want to join the resistance to the corporate takeover of the internet, or discuss how we can harness the digital revolution to help bring about radical social change?

Then check out the Rebellious Media Conference taking place in London on 8-9 October 2011.

Obviously the Middle East is going through some tumultuous changes. This has affected every person who has any connection with the region on any level. For some it has meant leaving town, for others, it has meant not wanting to go back. But what has happened for all, including those who do not have a relationship with the region, is that something has cracked, a certain consciousness has opened. In Egypt, the barrier of fear and silence was broken down, people united with their goal; while in Bahrain, this fear still stands against the cry for social development. Although consciousness is now shifting in the Arab world, it only brings to light the extent at which people have taken self-censorship as second nature and the inability to question regimes for granted.

Recently, I’ve been introduced to a collective blog/discussion forum (similar to this one, I suppose) that stands to open up this very point even more. Attempting to counter the stifled ability to express, Arabs.com interestingly points out that we must admit that we are ‘oppressed’ in order to actually combat that oppression. In his ‘message’, the founder of the website states his support for the freedom of choice and expression as well as the need for platforms without bias or guardianship.

As social/web media goes, this forum is being used as a tool to attempt to overcome that. But just as everything it is an experiment, as some of us have not overcome the fear. I, myself, have posted under a fake name in an attempt to dog attention of the “wrong” kind. I find this to be an interesting experiment, relying on bloggers and encouraging citizen journalists, it presents a public space that can be used in whatever way deemed appropriate by the user, but with a bottom line of encouraging a free consciousness. I find this to be a positive thing.

Arabs.com is having a event/tweet up (#arabstweetup) here in London on June 29. Anyone who wants to participate can contact them via twitter on @ARABSdotCOM.

Read the founder’s message here.
Sign up to blog and join discussions and threads at: http://www.arabs.com/

This review originally appeared in Literary Review, April 2011

This book essentially a warning to the West – a term that is never defined but refers more or less to US policymakers – about its blinkered cyber-utopianism. Evgeny Morozov rightly disparages those who naively imagine that Internet tools alone can produce political change (a position most crudely articulated within the Washington beltway by Hillary Clinton and Jared Cohen), and warns that this is ‘how not to liberate the world’. He legitimately argues that authoritarian regimes are also active on the Internet, using surveillance, propaganda and controls on both access and content. He notes various practices employed by governments – mainly the Chinese, the Russians and the Iranians – to limit free speech and popular use of the Web, especially if deemed to be in any way political. But his argument becomes a one-sided rant about the lurking dangers to Internet free speech, and it doesn’t concede any possible use of the Net for political reform.

The wave of insurrection currently sweeping across the Maghreb and the Middle East has shown that solidarity on the streets coupled with the mobilising, organising and reporting capacities of Internet-based technologies can produce political change. The reality of these varied experiences gives the lie both to simplistic cyber-utopianism and to simplistic warnings against it.

Morozov fails to convey a real sense of the locations he discusses. Trying to trace all the references to Russia’s use of the Internet, material Morozov clearly knows well, is almost impossible. He also makes errors and overstated claims about Iran. For example, the Islamic Republic had been playing cat and mouse with newspapers, trade unions, women, students and other groups on the streets and on the Internet well before the post-election developments of June 2009; and Mozorov’s important dismissal, early in the book, of the Western media’s claim that Iran underwent a ‘Twitter Revolution’ is undermined by his apparent acceptance of the notion in numerous references later on.

The Internet is used in ways that differ from society to society. Currently, insurrectionary movements are rolling out in countries with Internet penetration ranging from less than 2 per cent (Yemen) to 6 per cent (Libya), 21–34 per cent (Egypt and Tunisia) and 88 per cent (Bahrain). These countries have responded in different ways to popular dissent (capitulation, negotiation, violent repression).

The political actors that matter – those on the ground in authoritarian regimes – have not been cyber-utopians but have been trying to protect themselves from regime surveillance with a range of Internet tools, from Tor, a routing project that enables online anonymity, to encryption. Iranians were teaching each other about security and sharing proxies and filters long before hubristic projects such as Haystack – software designed by an American non-profit organisation to combat Iranian Internet censorship – were dreamed up. Morozov is good on the limits of these technologies; the most important lesson in the book is probably about the weakness of current evasive practices. But these are also being improved, from Eben Moglen’s Freedom Box of mobile servers to the development of open source software and of Diaspora (a decentralised social network conceived as an alternative to Facebook). Nevertheless, there is still a need to teach ordinary people, including naive Western users, how to improve their security on the Net.

Morozov also makes the important point that lauded companies such as Facebook have not been particularly keen on democratic practices, refusing to join the Global Network Initiative of standards to protect Internet rights. But that is separate from the uses Facebook members, now numbering over 500 million people, make of the platform. Facebook’s importance as a site for reconnecting diasporas to home populations, for building solidarity and for sharing information during periods of political upheaval cannot be discounted.

The book has seventy pages of bibliographic references that barely connect with the quotations in the text. It is loosely written and rife with unjustified generalisations invoking ‘we’ and ‘most observers’. It is divided into many short sections with chirpy titles that hardly indicate the matter at hand. Morozov engages well with arguments about technological determinism and simplistic readings of history, but then seems to think that everyone in the world is wielding an iPhone or an iPad. Most people are not connected at all. There are also many important discussions lurking here – about the nature of authoritarian regimes, about the emergence of political movements, and about Internet use in different parts of the world – but none is adequately developed.

Morozov never points out that Western foreign policy wonks (who cannot do much to promote democracy in other countries) have actively maintained many of the authoritarian regimes that are now being challenged by their own peoples. He, or ‘we’, might do better to focus on obstacles to the democratic functioning of the Internet and the good functioning of democracy at home, which are equally difficult challenges.