My Congo + Q+A
What immediately drew me to this short film was the title: “My Congo.” A title, which perfectly relates the intimacy of this documentary. In hindsight, I was correct in thinking that this was not your average nature film.
No ‘super squirrels’ or fast-paced hunts hurdled across my screen, and I thought to myself; finally, a film changing its tack. "My Congo," a part of the Wildscreen Festival in the Arnolfini museum, was sincere and gentle as it simultaneously uncovered one cameraman’s passion for his country and the extraordinary wildlife of the Congo.
The film’s protagonist was V – the wildlife cameraman Vianet Djenguet. V was relatable and shy; it was clear that by the end, every audience member had fallen in love with him. His smile was infectious. Rather than using technical jargon about nature, he used distinctive and somehow onomatopoeic phrases such as, “gorgeously gorgeous” and “nature being nature.” V offers us a unique insight into his homeland, divorcing the Congo from its label as the “dark heart of Africa.” He takes us from dramatic coastlines to majestic forests, showing us around as if we are an old friend. The tender tone of the film differentiates itself from its counterparts, as the discovery of the wildlife becomes intertwined with the remembrance of his heritage and childhood.
After the short viewing of the film came to a close, the presenter welcomed the director to the stage. A wave of disappointment flooded over the audience as a white, slightly chubby and middle-aged man called Doug Hope plopped down into the seat in front of us. At first, I was conflicted with a sense of awkwardness.
Wasn’t this classic. Despite having a black protagonist film and narrate the wildlife of his home country - a white man was telling his story.
I couldn’t help initially finding Hope frustratingly patronising towards V. He spoke about V needing “32 takes” to say certain phrases that he struggled to understand, (such as “trouble is brewing.”) The audience laughed along but I sat there uncomfortable, feeling confident that we were retracting from his achievements. V’s mother tongue was French, so why was this anecdote so important it needed to be rattled on for a full five minutes?
Nevertheless, an audience member of African heritage stood up to congratulate Hope for directing the film, emphasising how enthused he was that a white person did not feature within the documentary. Indeed, he was inspired that Hope was contradicting the perception that conservation was a white matter; only heroic locals were featured in the film. Hope admitted he was as disappointed as the rest of us that V was not present and that he was inadequately filling his place. He stressed they had worked in unison to change people’s perceptions of the Congo. Attempting to change the narrative of Congo from generalisations of violence and political instability, to the abundance and beauty of its wildlife, and the vibrancy of the indigenous population. Hope went from unaware and patronising to self-deprecating and sincere.
I left with questions about race and equality, over how much excess baggage is attached to the colour of our skin and with the images of baby guerrillas and chimpanzees climbing around my mind. I left with a strong desire to go back and explore the Western coast of Africa and to ignore the headlines that only highlight its struggles.
You might now ask, how does this relate to the public role of humanities? The humanities, and particularly our inter-disciplinary course, invites us to critique and question the sources around us. The definition of ‘the humanities’ literally alludes to the qualities of being human, and V’s stripped-back adoration for his homeland makes it impossible for the audience to not invest in his story. Through V, the film educates and enlightens people to reject previous stereotypes.