[English review] “Cinéma antillais, un cinéma en résistance”

Directed by Alexandre Hilaire, “Cinéma antillais, un cinéma en résistance” [t/n: West Indian cinema, cinema in resistance] is a documentary released in 2019. Between archive images, film extracts and interviews, the director writes a narrative on "the Caribbean cinema that has emerged over the last fifty years". In what way does this documentary reflect the current problems of (French) Caribbean cinema?

Defined generations

The first few minutes set the scene by showing excerpts from news reports from the 1950s on Martinique. The voice-over then explains the main challenge of Caribbean cinema: to regain control of the narrative about the West Indies. First filmmakers such as Gabriel Glissant (Martinique) or Christian Lara (Guadeloupe) used their cameras in a militant way, seeking to show the complex reality of their island. They paved the way for Euzhan Palcy. Her status as the first Black woman to get awarded with a César (“Sugar Cane Alley, 1984) underlines the potential of Caribbean cinema but also the height of the wall built to justify keeping West Indian content in the "exotic" box. The Martinican director was at the crossroads of two generations: the pioneers of the 1970s, who legitimized the West Indian people and their culture as a subject of cinema in its own right, and the heirs of the 1990s and 2000s, who also told the story of the diaspora. Her film “Siméon” (1993) is a good representation of the link between West Indian people from Guadeloupe/Martinique and France at that time.

In the 90s, the canvas established by the local pioneers of the 70s widened to include the West Indians living in France and represent their life there. While Constant Gros-Dubois described the problems faced by Afrocaribbean people (racism and identity crisis) in “Ô Madiana (1979)”, directors such as Lucien Jean-Baptiste (Martinique) and Pascal Légitimus (Guadeloupe) changed register. Getting into the family comedy genre gives them access to the mainstream predominantly white audience. In my opinion, this is when the documentary enters the consensual and conventional narrative about Caribbean cinema.

Invisibilized contemporary resistance

When it comes to the 2010’s generation of filmmakers, the discourse focuses more on the staging of a Caribbean style carrying universalism... This 3rd generation, symbolized by Nicolas Polixène and Richard Scott Thomas, gives the impression that Caribbean cinema is sufficiently developed to diversify and emerge from pure militancy, but the documentary quickly passes over this perspective. Maybe this was cut during editing, but what’s missing in the discours is the notion of entertainment cinema today. Everyone agrees on the existence of the glass ceiling and on the difficulty of finding funding. Admittedly, the argument of the nearly omnipotence of the rich White families (in Martinique) being able to block a project that doesn't suit them holds some truth. On the other hand, it’s not enough to explain the fact that this documentary doesn’t address the diversity of genres as a necessary discussion to develop our industry. Where are the people who want to show Caribbean folklore, Caribbean history in our contemporary world and even manage to transpose it into a future that is currently being played out? I’m thinking in particular of the short film “Trafik d'info” (2005) by Janluk Stanislas, recognized as the first Caribbean science fiction film. I’m thinking of Alain Bidard and Khris Burton, who also explore science fiction. Between them, they have more than 50 nominations in international festivals and more than 20 awards, which proves that French Caribbean cinema isn’t limited to comedy or drama to dress up as an acceptable form of militancy. And, in my opinion, this is where the question of representation is now also at stake. Representation isn’t just in terms of the themes or issues told. It’s also in terms of which filmmakers are considered to be important or not, the ones that this kind of documentary puts forward for History. Here’s a translation of the official synopsis.

West Indian cinema grew up in the shadow of the "métropole”. It’s a cinema made by activists that has been fighting for fifty years to exist. Stemming from the questions and demands that also crossed the African-American cinema of the 1970s, it tackles without taboos the colonial heritage, identity, racism and the representation of Black actors on the screen. Through excerpts from great films (“O Madiana”, “Coco la fleur”, “Nèg Maron”...) and the testimonies of committed filmmakers, “West Indian Cinema” tells the story of “a cinema in resistance” that still gets, unfairly, nearly no recognition. 

No recognition from whom ? And no recognition compared to which films ? And what’s the whole point of getting “recognition” ? In addition to the absence of filmmakers who contribute to the diversity of the cinema produced in Guadeloupe and Martinique, what struck me is the absence of a discourse on production and recognition decentered from what France deems okay or not. Once again, maybe it was cut during editing, but Richard Scott Thamar is the only one to utter the (Afro)Caribbean word. And this is where I question the meaning of the West Indian adjective in the title and throughout the documentary. Is it purely geographical, or is it an illustration of this vision of a cinema in Guadeloupe and Martinique that cannot exist independently from France, a cinema that can only be worthy of interest if it’s precisely in the shadow of the “métropole"? Of course, there’s the problem of production, but what about the current issue of distribution on a national and global level? What about the ongoing structuring of an integrated film industry in the Caribbean? These are not rhetorical questions, because even at my level of passionate (but rigorous) research, I easily came across the initiatives of people from Guadeloupe and Martinique struggling to make Caribbean cinema shine as a symbol of cultural diversity. But it is true that if an artists crew such as Yé Clik has been active in Guadeloupe since 2002, initiatives for parallel distribution channels such as Cinemawon or the film festival Nouveaux Regards were created only in 2016. This observation reinforces my impression that this documentary stops (consciously or not) its discourse in 2015... If the distribution challenges are evoked by these 2nd gen filmmakers, the prospects of opening up to find solutions are overlooked.

As a retrospective approach, “West Indian Cinema, Cinema in Resistance” offers a beautiful introduction to the history of French Caribbean cinema in the 20th and early 21st centuries. The film and archive excerpts allow us to dive into these eras and highlight talented filmmakers. It’s important that their memories be passed on to us. Nevertheless, the very existence of this documentary reflects the paradox of the current situation of Caribbean cinema. The discourse on a cinema as an activist tool, on a cinema limited in its development linked to France, is allowed. What about the other resistance fighters, the contemporary "maroons" at work for the past twenty years? In my opinion, the approach of this documentary is from the past and illustrates this monolithic vision of Caribbean cinema. Everything that is said could have been said 5 or even 10 years ago. And my comment on the fact that this documentary struggles to present the current stakes of this cinema, to show the other alternatives of resistance and to think about it in a diversity of genres would have been valid. My examples to support my point about the artists turned towards a Caribbean horizon to reach the international scene would have been valid too.

Maybe this wasn’t the point of this documentary… Even if the sequence of historical contextualization at the beginning seemed to me to foresee a discourse on contemporary resistance in its plurality. I think that Caribbean cinema as a whole is a cinema in resistance, today more than ever. The next generation I was talking about in 2016 is surely in the production phase. And I add today that these filmmakers will probably emerge from the movement of those resistances that this documentary didn’t bring to light.