Broken Blossoms

Finally got my hands on a copy of this amazing 1919 melodrama by Birth of a Nation director D.W Griffith. Now, it may not interest anyone else, but I was almost more interested in what age certificate the film would get than seeing the film again for the first time in around four and a half years. Looking at pictures on the internet, I saw versions of the front cover emblazoned with a 'PG' cert, and other versions with a '15' cert. Both versions were on DVD, so obviously this fluctuation had happened somewhat abruptly. Upon receiving my DVD, I was fascinated to discover the DVD case read 'PG', while the DVD was printed with a '15' certificate. This can only really suggest a sudden change in the BBFC's ruling, and the distributor opting for the lower age certificate for whatever reason.

Of course, the really interesting thing here is not the packaging, so much as what is contained on this DVD that to some eyes would be deemed unsuitable for any young teenager, yet to other regulators is fit for viewing for all aside from particularly young children? The answer lies in both the film's thematics, and the inherent recontextualisation that occurs when viewing such an old text.

Consider this: when we read about how the Vikings invaded what is now the United Kingdom, we are not spared the details of the rape and murder that they were involved in. However, it is perfectly acceptable to don a horned helmet (at a fancy dress party, for example) in direct emulation of a people renowned at least in part for their utilisation of what has now been classified as genocide: the act of war rape*. However, When we read of the similar situations that are going on in the world today, for example in Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo, we act in revulsion. One would not dream of dressing up as a Congolese rebel in military gear for the sake of a party, so why is the emulation of one rapist preferable to the emulation of another?

The answer is, of course, the passage of time has distanced ourselves sufficiently from the initial violent invasions of the UK that we can joke about the Vikings, Genghis Khan, Jack the Ripper, and many other perpetrators of atrocities that, should these same things occur today, we would almost certainly not joke about (depending on present company and other factors, of course). Time, it seems, glosses over the horrors of the past, and makes them palatable for general consumption.

Which brings us back to Broken Blossoms, a film that not only contains brutal, unflinching scenes of domestic abuse, but also also sepia tinted hues and juddering inter-titles that we have perhaps seen more often in parody than in actual historical media texts. It is this distancing that undoubtedly justified the BBFC's decision to pass the film with such a low age certificate, whereas 90 years previously, the film had to be censored in the United Kingdom to even be exhibited at all. It is a stark reminder of the power of contemporary media discourse. Should this film be remade today in a style befitting the preferences of today's consumers of cinema, the violence and themes of racial hatred would doubtless offend and upset more people, necessitating a higher age certificate. Let us not forget that the film was at one point shown under the name The Chink and the Girl, and that towards the film's climax, Lucy exclaims "I love you, chinky!" to the film's supposedly Chinese protagonist. In 1919, a white girl declaring her love for a Chinese man would be seen as hard hitting, scandalous even. Now, the impact of this scene is invariably recontextualised on behalf of the viewer: weather he or she sees it as amusing, dated or even offensive, the original intended reading has been augmented by contemporary expectations and schematic associations.

If all we are seeing then is an incomprehensible palimpsest of subsequent reappraisals, then the BBFC's decision is an apt one. We are watching Broken Blossoms, not The Chink and the Girl. We are watching a "classic melodrama" as the box proclaims, and thus we should view the film not with its original intentions, but as an artefact and a curio. It would be possible to emulate the stuttering film stock and voiceless nature of the film in a digital environment, but the degradation of the stock that has occurred with age has also eradicated the contemporary critical, public and intertextual reactions of the film. As such, I will never see Broken Blossoms, I will only see the DVD. As much as I try and eradicate my own schemas, I will always intrinsically distance myself from the film. In a hundred years time, even my own schemas will seem privileged compared to the distancing that has occurred. And no matter what media is produced, and no matter how violent it is, it will one day be stripped of all potential offensiveness, no matter how strenuously we attempt to archive it for posterity. Everything we ever accomplish will ultimately be recontextualised beyond our own recognition, if it even has the privilige of being remembered at all. This is a fact that is beautiful, terrifying and comforting.

*This is, again, a reclassification that reflects a perception that changes through time. It is a fact, that has frighteningly remained a foregone conclusion for some time, that systematic rape is symptomatic of sending young men into battle. This does not exclusively occur in 'third world' countries, either. For example, the American Marines and Japanese soldiers alike were famous for the rape of thousands of women on the southern Japanese island of Okinawa during the second world war. Some estimates put the number of rapes committed by the American soldiers alone as upwards of 10,000 in a three month period. For more sombre reading, see Wikipedia's somewhat comprehensive article on war rape. The horrifying fact is that it is only in the last few years that war rape has been classified by the Geneva Convention as what it inherently is, a tool of subjugation, psychological torture and genocide.