The Reel Critic

Author: JUSTINE KATZENBACH

This past Saturday night, students, faculty and visitors poured into Dana Auditorium and after filling the chairs, they sat on the floor and even stood in the corners to see the remarkable documentary, "Born into Brothels." Winner of an Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature in 2004, the power of the film lies in its moving content.

On a trip to India in 1995, photographer Zana Briski became overwhelmed by the complex nature of poverty in the Red Light District of Sonagchi, Calcutta, where about 7,000 women and girls are employed as prostitutes. In 1998, in response to the extreme poverty and suffering she had witnessed, Briski began working with the women in the brothels, and became particularly committed to helping the children of these prostitutes. With this in mind, between the years 2000 and 2003, "Zana Auntie," as she had affectionately come to called, began a series of photography classes with a small group of children, equipping them with 35 mm cameras and teaching basic photographic techniques. It was in 2000 that Briski, fascinated by the reactions she was receiving and changes she was witnessing, invited filmmaker Ross Kauffman to Calcutta to collaborate on a documentary that would reveal how photography both affected and transformed the lives, hopes and dreams of the children.

As the film progresses and the children use photography to document their everyday lives, filmgoers become enthralled with each image. The color and composition are not only beautiful, but they contain a deep, harrowing aesthetic that chills and haunts most viewers. Captured in each shot is a story that goes far beyond what is immediately apparent, one that embodies the true horrors and atrocities of life in the brothels.

The children's adorable yet insightful and thoughtful mannerisms infect the audience. As "Zana Auntie" searches to find boarding schools that will actually accept the children of prostitutes, reasoning that the only way to save them is by giving them an education, the viewer becomes attached to each individual child - Will Avijit, son of a drug-addict father and prostitute mother (who is eventually set on fire by her pimp) be able to leave the brothels and show the world his unique and incredible photographs? Will wild and crazy Puja, with her heartbreaking smile, find a life that is not doomed in the direction of prostitution to which she is headed? Filmgoers become each child's biggest supporters.

It is difficult to view "Born into Brothels" without a stereotyping the westernized eye. Seeing the profound injustices and poverty of these amiable and charming children, it is hard to not want to blame their mothers for not "choosing" other lifestyles or striving to keep their children in school. The shock factor for Americans when viewing a film like this can ultimately culminate in vast generalizations.

It is important to remember to look at the film critically, attempting to understand some of the reasons why these children or their parents choose to keep them in their homes instead of letting them go to boarding schools. Americans tend to think that we are completely exempt from issues like those confronted in "Born into Brothels," when in actuality many similar issues of poverty and societal class differences pervade our country as well. The issues presented may seem unique when, in fact, they are universal. Although the film is incredibly moving and essential, it is unfortunate that it does not more directly engender an understanding of the omnipresence of these issues. However, it is far more the responsibility of the Western audience to be able to comprehend than to present it to the filmmakers themselves.