Born into Brothels -- Oscar nominee

[Chris Knipp]

Zana Briski and Ross Kauffman: Born into Brothels: Calcutta's Red Light Kids

Showing the world what poor kids can do

Review by Chris Knipp

This is what the Latin ideal of "dulce et utile" means: Born into Brothels is beautiful and charming but at the same time teaches and inspires.

Zana Briski escaped from boredom and frustration and found a mission. The London born photojournalist was tired of her job with the Baltimore Sun in the mid-Nineties, she told the LA Weekly recently: "'The Sun would have me shoot some woman who just finished a quilt. Or somebody’s cow,' she says. 'I was driving all the time. It was awful. And meanwhile, there were gang wars going on down the block. But they didn’t want to know about that.'" She quit her job at the beginning of 1995 and immediately flew to India.

Briski kept going back to Calcutta for seven years. Originally, she told LA Weekly, she went to study the life of prostitutes of Sonagachi, the red light district, inspired by a bond she felt with "Sister Ammachi, India’s 'hugging saint,' thought by some to be an incarnation of the Divine Mother of Hinduism," who " had donated land for a school for Sonagachi's children." A brothel owner let Briski live on the premises; she realized the area was full of children (as well as husbands and grannies), and when the kids grabbed at her camera, she started a photography class for eight ten- to thirteen-year-olds, four boys and four girls, and gave each one a point-and-shoot camera and film. They snapped everything, with as many different results as there were personalities. We get to know all of them: Avijit, Puja, Shanti, Gour, Manik and the rest are each clear individuals. They're very accessible, and many of their images showed ugliness and chaos, but also exuberance and brilliant garish color (the film is processed in a garish way too, and its look is wholly appropriate to the intensity of Indian city life).

It was a serious photography class. At this age, children are all natural born artists, and all produced good work, while a few showed special talent. At this age, they're also open and eager, and Briski, who managed to recruit her then boyfriend, New York (HBO) film editor Ross Kauffman, to help do a documentary about the group, realized she had to do something to give the kids a future. This led to an effort to get some of them into boarding schools so the boys would have lives and the girls wouldn't end up "in line," as the next generation of prostitutes.

This effort proved very difficult -- both families and red tape got in the way. But with others' help and her own persistence, four did enter schools, though most dropped out or were pulled out by their families. Handsome enlargements of the kid's work were exhibited locally and internationally from the first, and Amnesty International produced a calendar using them. The most talented boy, Avijit, got to go to Amsterdam for a conference of young photographers. (That wasn't easy either, but he did it.) Briski sold the prints successfully enough to start a school in Sonagachi that's opening two years from now and also to coordinate projects of "kids with cameras" in Haiti, Israel, and Egypt. The idea of uniting self-expression for the downtrodden with documentation for the world to see their lives is a brilliant, and yet wholly natural one.

It's astonishing how articulate the children are about their families, about their future prospects, about what they're doing with their cameras. Briski is a no-nonsense person: she treats the kids as equals, and when they are onscreen there's no sense of embarrassment or condescension , sentimentalizing or aestheticizing. If this world seems beautiful as well as ugly, that's the kids' doing.

Born into Brothels is simple. It works because it speaks through the kids. As the New York theatrical blurb pointed out, their class, with its critiques, editing sessions, and portfolio evaluations, was the kind of thing you'd expect on Manhattan's Upper West Side, but the material the kids had to work with is intense and unique. This is a rich and brave exploration of the possibilities of photography and ways of salvaging young lives in a socially "doomed" environment. The Indian musical accompaniment is so lively and catchy, you wonder if the whole story will shortly be made into a Bollywood spectacular.

This engrossing and appealing documentary had its US premiere in early December 2004 at Film Forum,where the children's enlarged color photographs graced the lobby and hallways.So far, the film has won 27 awards in 2004-2005, including the Sundance Film Festival Audience Award, Best Documentary at the National Board of Review and the LA Critics Awards, and an Oscar nomination for Best Documentary. There is a book published by Umbrage Editions and the film will be shown on HBO. In January and February 2005 it is having a series of screenings across the US and in Canada with accompanying photographic exhibitions and directors' appearances.

References:

LA Weekly http://www.laweekly.com/ink/printme.php?eid=60279

The book: http://www.kids-with-cameras.org/newsevents/?page=2004-12-06-bookrelease.incl

Special screenings: http://www.kids-with-cameras.org/newsevents/?page=2005-01-31-events.incl

[Howard Schumann]

Here is an excerpt from a review by J. Robert Parks. Your comments please sir!


Still, my praise has to be qualified, for Born into Brothels is also a frustrating work, particularly if you're a fan of documentaries. I don't mind the fuzzy digital video camerawork, as that goes with the territory. But I do mind the movie's lack of context. While the film is ostensibly a portrait of particular children in a particular place, it doesn't do much to explore the place itself. There are few interviews with the children's family members, and therefore the brief explosions of rage that the camera does capture are hard to understand. Furthermore, there's no attempt to situate the red light district within Calcutta itself. My friend Garth compared Born into Brothels to Bus 174, an appropriate comparison, but that movie did a much better job of helping us to understand the larger context of Rio de Janeiro as well as the class differences involved.



Born into Brothels doesn't even properly explain one of its primary themes--education. Briski spends much of the last half of the movie trying to get the children out of the brothels and into boarding schools. At first it appears that the children aren't receiving any education at all, but later on there are indications that the children do go to school. So are the boarding schools just a way to get the children out of their corrosive environment, or is there something substantially different about that kind of education?

It doesn't help that the focus of the movie's last half shifts somewhat from the children to Briski herself, as she takes on the heroic task of actually changing the children's lives. But no matter how admirable that is, there's still something awkward about the white Westerner coming to save the day and thereby deflecting the spotlight onto herself. It's clear that the bureaucratic chaos of Calcutta is profoundly frustrating, but it's dangerous when the film appears to equate Briski's own difficulties with those of her subjects. Especially when Briski doesn't seem to acknowledge the ethical, class, and racial dynamics involved.

[Chris Knipp]

It sounds like this is a chap who cannot be pleased by this film no matter what it does; but since this is an excerpt and not the whole review, it's hard to evaluate the writer's analysis thoroughly. Going by what you give here, I don't find his criticisms particularly sharp or germane. He seems a bit whiney. "There are few interviews with the children's family members." But there are some. The focus is on the children.

Parks appears to be looking for something that just isn't there. That wasn't meant to be. There are documentaries that do nothing but explore huge contexts; this is not of that kind. What it has is warmth and vividness. You learn a great deal about children and art and learning and the red light district of Calcutta and you get a great feel for what these people are like and how they express themselves. I wouldn't compare it to the films Parks mentions (Bus 174 isn't "appropriate" at all*) but perhaps to something more germane, such as Être et avoir, To Be and To Have, which is a microscopic examination of a classroom with closeup views of each of the young students. True, that is probably a better film (it's both more detailed and more moving), and it has a bit more of a view of the families and the region. In both cases, though, because the look is close and vivid, we see a Universe in a Grain of Sand.

Park seems a bit dense in his inability to interpret things not said--e.g., his complaint about the "education" theme. Obviously the boarding schools are both a better education and a removal from the "corrosive" environment; how can he ask?

In considering the film's strengths and weaknesses, you might take particular note of the fact that this is a documentary by a direct participant in the activities depicted. Others complain that there should be more about Briski herself, given that she is a participant and the force behind the class. Parks does the reverse; he actually complains that she is shifting the spotlight to herself toward the end. This is unwarranted. She is self-effacing almost to a fault throughout, but she is the force behind the activities depicted in the film. The makers of To Be and to Have had the advantage that all they had to do was point their cameras at the teacher and the students. They had no other job. Born into Brothels is almost a film journal. It's a vivid testimony and picture. Behind it is the spirit and dedication of Zana Briski. I don't think Parks was completely tuned in here.

*This comparison shows Parks' denseness (or is it just that of his "friend Garth"?): Bus 174 is about poor children, true, but in a different situation treated in a completely different kind of film. As well use Pixote, but that's not a documentary.

[Howard Schumann]

Thanks Chris. I haven't seen the film yet but plan on doing so soon, perhaps this weekend and I know an answer to him would be self evident, but just wanted to get your response.

[Chris Knipp]

Always interesting to consider the pros and cons; thanks for stimulating a second look. My reaction to the film is just that it made me feel very good. I love the idea of children as artists, the children were very lively and appealing, and Zana Briski is doing admirable work. It felt authentic to me, and honest. There are no panaceas or easy solutions offered, but the spirit is positive.

[Howard Schumann]

BORN INTO BROTHELS (Calcutta's Red Light Kids)

Directed by Zana Briskie and Ross Kaufman (2004)

In India, red light districts are booming in cities like Mumbai, Delhi, and Calcutta where millions of transient men live and work far away from their homes and wives. The oldest and the largest of these is Sonagachi in Calcutta where the women have organized into a sex trade union of more than 5,000 active workers and have spread awareness about AIDS and HIV, making Sonagachi one of the few red light districts in the country that does not accept clients without condoms. Subject to a class system that puts them on the lowest rung of Indian society, the mostly illegitimate children of the sex workers are also expected to "join the line" when they reach a certain age. Minor girls are the most sought after in the brothels and secure the highest price, making it very difficult for the parents to let them leave, especially when the only other alternative may be the starvation of their entire family.

In 1997, photographer Zana Briski was assigned to capture images of Sonagachi. While the women were reluctant to let her into their lives, the children quickly responded and Briski became a resident of the brothel for five years. During that time, she provided the children with point and shoot cameras, set up classes in photography, and trained them to document the harsh reality of their daily lives. The result is the Oscar nominated documentary Born Into Brothels, a film that takes us inside the squalid brothels and allows us to see the world through the eyes of some of its most vulnerable residents, five girls and three boys, ages ten to fourteen. Shot in dazzling color using a digital camera, we get to know the children through their photos.

There is Kochi, age 10, who is strong, resilient, tough, and sensitive. Avijit, age 12, seems to be the most talented of the group. He draws, paints, takes pictures and, through Briski's patient efforts, was able to obtain a passport to be a part of a photo-editing panel in Amsterdam. Shanti, age 11, is most eager to learn but is troubled and often feuds with her brother Manik. The others: Gour, Puja, Tapasi, and Suchitra all show a unique ability to find beauty in their ugly environment. The film documents Briski's uphill efforts to place the children in boarding schools to escape the cycle of poverty and exploitation. Some manage to find places in the schools but the biggest obstacle is shown to be the children's own mothers and guardians, often protective out of the sheer necessity for survival.

Born Into Brothels is a testimony to the transforming power of art and of one individual's ability to make a difference. Showing the children's art to Western audiences has helped to raise money for the Sonagachi children's education. It may also serve to make people more aware of the potential talent of millions of other third world children who struggle daily for existence on the streets, the orphanages, and the refugee camps of our teeming world.

GRADE: A-

[oscar jubis]

Thanks Chris Knipp for providing background on Ms. Briski and the project's gestation process. Thanks Howard Schumann for providing an excerpt from a review by Robert Parks, who brings up some of the flaws and weaknesses that seemed quite obvious to me. I was also extremely frustrated by the lack of context and the lack of any analysis. If I made a list of over-rated films, this one would be at the top. It's worth-watching, mostly because of the subject matter, but the treatment is extremely shallow, facile, and self-congratulatory. So much time documenting the production of photographs and Ms. Briski's good deeds, so little time providing any sociological context or analysis. My favorite part of the film is when the kids were allowed to speak directly to the camera. And that moment when a nun confronts Briski's assertion that she's lived with the prostitutes for five years (the second, or third? time we hear this) and the obviously annoyed Briski responds: "well, on and off". Unlike Chris, I didn't find it appropriate to stylize the film by making it grainy and over-exposed. Overall, a wasted opportunity to analyze some of the causes of third world poverty, and a wasted opportunity to shed some light into the particularly Indian aspects that perpetuate poverty within a booming economy. Most undeserved Oscar awarded this year, in my opinion.