The Subtle Tone of Genocide

Documentaries hold a mirror up to our faces and demand a reaction from us. They challenge us by making us think, and urge us to reflect on our role in this world and how we share it with those showcased in the film. They are always about humanity, because that is what it all comes down to. Documentaries remind us of our shared humanity and how we are all human. Those who kill, those who suffer, we are all the same. This is what stirs emotions within us, as it makes us reflect on how one human being can hurt another. The films The Act of Killing, directed by Joshua Oppenheimer, and Night and Fog, directed by Alain Resnais, hold this mirror up through their focus on war and the topics of genocide.

Both films rely on their connection with time. They show us the before and after, how the ground we now walk on was once the site where thousands of unburied bodies lay. I believe these films are a call to action. They acknowledge that it is not normal to view these same locations as unaffected or as if nothing happened. They shine a UV light on the murders that we do not initially see. How is it that a local shop was once a place where hundreds of people were killed upstairs? Or that a house next to a neighbor’s was the site of more murders? A Nazi concentration camp that has since been overtaken by the peaceful aspects of nature and tourism. The ghosts of those who suffered continue to haunt these places, and documentaries like The Act of Killing and Night and Fog reclaim their ownership and presence over these grounds.

Another aspect that intrigued me was the casual tone of The Act of Killing. Much of this tone comes from the narration of the Indonesian murderers, who casually describe the ways they killed and tortured people. One might wonder why a documentary about genocide doesn’t adopt a somber tone. In a way, it highlights the hypocrisy and apathy of those responsible. In Night and Fog, we witness horrific and heartbreaking footage of the concentration camps. There is nothing casual about it, yet the experience could be described as such. When I watched it, I was initially deceived by the peaceful and natural aspects of the concentration camps. I knew I would be learning about the events that took place there, but nothing prepared me for the footage and images I was about to see. The contrast between the calm start of the film and the dark, disturbing footage that follows is jarring. I even asked myself if what I was seeing was real. Am I really watching human heads or unrecognizable bodies? I would have probably anticipated these images or the feelings I experienced if the film had started with a somber tone and somber music. Instead, there is classical music playing. It is this indifferent, nonchalant, and casual aspect that I am referring to. It prevents the film from spoon feeding us to identify what is obviously wrong. As the audience, we must experience this overwhelming rush of emotions and learn how to digest a tragedy that is anything but casual.

Both documentaries also have their differences. In The Act of Killing, the perpetrators of the genocide are the ones telling the story and acknowledging their guilt, making it even more impactful and compelling. In Night and Fog, an omniscient voice narrates the events. The formal tone contrasts heavily with the chaotic and unsettling images. Both films present different perspectives on the issue: the perpetrator and the victim. Although both are set in times after the events, they offer distinct viewpoints for the audience. In Night and Fog, our attention is centered on mourning and remembrance, drawing us into the past. The Act of Killing, on the other hand, makes us reflect on the future. It instilled fear in me to watch how people like this are still alive today, and it made me think on what the future may hold. Documentaries are invitations to the past, present, and the future.