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| The Sapphires (2012) |
This is a guest post written by Jaya Bedi.
I predict that this is going to be a very popular film.
Well, it already is a popular film — in Australia. But I can already tell that its about to become a classic with me and my friends — up there with Mean Girls, Pride and Prejudice, and Bend it Like Beckham — and its only a matter of time before the rest of North America discovers what a gem this movie is. The fact that Bridesmaids actor Chris O’Dowd is one of the stars is only going to make it more popular, as is the fact that it passes the Bechdel Test with flying colors. But what’s really interesting about this film is its treatment of race and cultural identity.
The Sapphires is about a group of four young Aboriginal women in 1968, who receive a career-making opportunity: travel to Vietnam and sing for the American troops fighting the war. We follow our heroines from their obscure beginnings, through their “discovery,” their rising fame, and the triumphant return home, and we meet a slew of predictable characters along the way. Make no mistake; this is not a film that breaks the rules of the music biopic genre. But what this film lacks in originality, it makes up with heart. The director never loses his compassion for the outlandish personalities he’s dealing with. We develop a deep appreciation for Cynthia, the hilarious sister with no personal boundaries; Gail, the overbearing mama bear of the group, and Dave, the hapless alcoholic manager/keyboardist, with whom we can’t help but fall in love.
While The Sapphires has the feel of a rollicking adventure, the film deals with some very serious issues, and does so with tact and grace. The film does not shy away from showing the blatant discrimination that the girls face because of the color of their skin — this is made clear at the beginning of the film, following Cynthia and Gail’s disastrous performance at an all-white country club. The film takes a firm stance on internalized racism as well — we see the shame that Kay feels at being associated with her black cousins, and her attempts to pass for white. But this isn’t so much a polemic about the prejudice and discrimination that Aboriginal Australians face as it is a coming-of-age tale, for Kay especially. Kay goes from feeling helpless in her despair at their situation, to feeling empowered by her identity as a woman of color; she learns to love being who she is, despite the hardships that being black entails.
When the girls arrive in Saigon, they are immediately enraptured by the American men they see everywhere. Cynthia falls in love with an audience member immediately, and Kay develops a gigantic crush on a handsome soldier she meets at the hotel. What made me sit up and pay attention was the fact that not a single man the girls show interest in is white. From the second they get there, they are immersed in black American culture (they are, after all, singing soul music), and they have no desire to leave and fraternize with any of their white counterparts. This isn’t because they are barred from mingling with white soldiers by rule or custom — they don’t do it because they don’t want to do it. They specifically seek out black men as romantic partners because they feel a kinship to them. It was refreshing to see men of color depicted as genuinely romantically desirable, without the gross fetishization that usually occurs when black men and sex are involved.
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| In Australia, Aboriginals are considered to be “black.” |
The girls feel connected to the black American soldiers whom they meet, because in Australia, Aboriginals are also considered to be “black.” To be black is to be hated, feared, and shunned — as it is all over the world. No wonder that their struggles as marginalized people in their own land would resonate so strongly with black soldiers, who faced similar discrimination back home. The story is a microcosm of the greater alliances that were being built between Australian Aboriginals and black Americans at the time. Black American soldiers on shore leave from the Vietnam War often spent time in Australia, and, fed up with the racist treatment they received from white Australians, would gravitate to the black neighborhoods, where they would share the latest in black American music and political ideas. Inspired by black American thinkers, Aboriginal activists launched a domestic Black Power movement in Australia, with the intention of reclaiming the pejorative implications of the word “black,” to turning it into something to be proud of, and to fighting for more self-governance and an end to racial discrimination within Australia.
If I had one critique of the film — I wish we had seen a little more from the black men whom Cynthia and Kay date. I wish we could have seen their conversations. I wish as much attention was paid to Kay’s relationship with her boyfriend as was to Dave and Gail, who strike up a peculiar friendship. I wish we could have seen more of Kay’s transformation from self-hating white-identifier to being an Aboriginal woman with a strong sense of self, a proud woman of the Yorta Yorta clan. The change seemed rather sudden, not at all justified by the narrative. Kay’s boyfriend felt more like a foil for Kay’s character rather than an actual character in his own right, which is problematic when one of the things that helps Kay discover her identity is her relationship to a black American man, and to black American culture.
This is a story about American empire, in a way. After all, it takes place on the periphery of the Vietnam War, which was fought in order to strengthen the influence of the American empire on Southeast Asia. It’s a story in which representatives of two racist nation-states meet and exchange ideas — but in an ironic twist, the actors happen to be racially marginalized minorities. Instead of reinforcing the racist hegemony, these people of color resist by sharing ideas of self-love. And amid all the larger questions and issues that this film brings up — it is also an intensely human story, one of family ties and reconciliation, of falling in love, and remembering who you are. For these reasons, The Sapphires is ultimately successful.
Jaya Bedi is a twenty-four year old blogger living in Connecticut. She likes to write about race, politics, and television. You can follow her on twitter at @anedumacation.
