06.01.06
SIFF 2006, day 6
Carmen in Khayelitsha
South Africa
I’m not going to waste time copying and pasting the blurb because I can explain it myself: This is Carmen–as in, the opera by Bizet–set in a modern-day South African township, and performed in Xhosa. If that sounds gimmicky, well, so did Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet. Sometimes a gimmick is what a story needs to be seen anew.
(Stop reading here if you don’t want the plot of Carmen spoiled for you.)
The bad points first: They have nearly removed Escamillo (called here Lullamile, and a famous singer rather than a toreador) from the story; there’s only one brief flirtatious moment with Carmen, and the attempt to fit in his killing of a bull is awkward. The film would have been stronger, if less faithful to the source, if they’d removed him entirely rather than having him as an almost incidental presence.
The film’s Don Jose (called here Jongi, a policeman rather than a solider though the distinction doesn’t mean much in practical terms) has a pretty tenor, but is not a good actor. His passion and obsession with Carmen are hardly noticeable as his expression rarely varies, and it weakens the story. Also, the incident with the captain that convinces him to join the smugglers is handled badly, almost as a sidenote, and doesn’t carry the wallop that it should.
I really love that they included South African music and dance in the film, but it doesn’t always mesh as well with the operatic aspect as it could. Also, the pacing is weird and not as efficient as it could be; The Husband commented that they took too long to tell what story they used, and I was surprised when we left the theater to discover that it had only been about two hours, since it had felt much longer than that.
So, bad points aside…with Escamillo and the jealousy he introduces largely out of the picture, what we get instead is a story of abuse and control, and it works well. Carmen doesn’t realize what she’s bought herself until Jongi has become hers, and his actions towards her are clearly those of a controlling, violent, abusive man. Her death isn’t the just dessert of a manipulative strumpet, but the result of an abuser who can’t stand losing control over his “property.”
This is also a story that matches well with the hopelessness of township poverty–in Lullamile’s story we get a flashback to apartheid that sets the scene for why those in the townships have so little way out. Crime, abuse, and violence are part of the landscape here, and it’s no wonder tragedy results.
This story of course rests on the shoulders of whoever plays Carmen, and whooooooooooooa nellie, Pauline Malefane is stunning. She has a rich, powerful voice, and her physical presence is awesome–this Carmen doesn’t flamenco, she shimmies, slinks, and stomps, and when she does you understand exactly what men see in her. Her “Habanera” is a wonder, sung with a sneer that anyone ought to be able to see, except that the men are so enthralled by her sheer force of personality that they never register her contempt for them. She’s less a frivolous sexual gameplayer than a woman who takes men only when she needs something, which makes the way she falls to Jongi more poignant.
From a purely cinematic standpoint, I found this middling. From a performance standpoint, though, a terrific experience.