Factory Girl Fatat El Masna (Factory Girl)

Factory Girl

Fatat el Masna (Factory Girl) by Mohamed Khan depicts a misunderstood segment of society: female Muslim factory workers in Egypt. The contemporary setting of the story allows the viewer to make real-life comparisons with their own notions of race, class, gender, ethnicity, and power. Social stratification is a core theme, but gender is a far more salient one in Khan's movie. Fatat el Masna is about individual women taking personal risks to alter gender norms. Yet ironically, Hiyam (Yasmin Raeis) operates within a stereotypically chauvinistic framework. She fantasizes about her boss in ways that are the antithesis of female self-empowerment, as if the film suggests that women in Egyptian society can only liberate themselves in their own minds. Their actual liberation remains a pipe dream. Seeds of hope are planted, however, as Hiyam remains true to her word and values. She does fall in love with her boss and therefore perpetuates sexist stereotypes, yet Hiyam also subverts gender norms and roles. Fatat el Masna therefore encapsulates the conflicting, complex, and contradictory nature of gender roles and norms in contemporary Egyptian society.

Mohamed Khan and screenwriter Wessam Soliman reveal to outsiders the world of working class Egyptian women in ways rarely seen on the big screen. Nothing is romanticized in Fatat el Masna but nothing is overly melodramatic, either. The factory workers are not dirt poor; they have jobs and are not wanting of much more than freedom. They are aware of the constraints placed upon them due to gender and especially power and class, and in the case of Hiyam anyway, they are interested in and willing to overcome those constraints. The filmmakers, a husband-and-wife team comprised of Khan and Soliman, want viewers to see that Egyptian society is far from being monolithic and that many Egyptians of all rungs of society are interested in deep social change and justice. This is especially true of educated Egyptians in the diaspora like khan and Soliman, but also of the types of women depicted in their film Fatat el Masna about factory girls.

The common perception of factory girls is that they are uneducated and therefore utterly disenfranchised. Khan and Soliman dispel this myth, showing that factory girls are equally as willing and able of perceiving injustice and taking risks to overcome it in their own lives. Hiyam and her colleagues have not completely given up hope. They are young and idealistic. Hiyam is especially unrealistic in her expectations of being rescued from her situation, which is the only problematic thread in the film. Had the filmmakers depicted Hiyam as falling in love with a female colleague, or with a male in her own social class, the dynamic of the film would have been different. As it is, a chivalrous element detracts from the deeper issues, and ends up making light of what is indeed a very serious situation.

Factory girls are not in a position of power and are not going to be able to make significant impact on their society. That much is clear, and Khan does not imply otherwise. The film shows that small steps, baby steps, are the only means by which women can overcome entrenched patriarchal values. Women are the only main characters in this film other than Salah (Hany Adel). The film is remarkable in the sense that it offers a feminist window into Egyptian society, and shows that women can often be their own worst enemies. Women accuse Hiyam of being promiscuous, and of breaking with tradition. Hiyam struggles against a patriarchal social structure so intense and entrenched that her own mother fails to support her in her time of need. Hiyam is a hero because she stands up for her principles, even more than standing up for herself. Her reputation is less important than her ability to do something about a sexist society. Unfortunately, it takes subsuming her own power to a man to do so.

Khan's use of mis-en-scene and other cinematographic techniques conveys his central vision of the ambivalence of feminist empowerment in Egypt. Much of Fatat el Masna takes place in the mind of Hiyam, who is frequently featured in close-ups and full-frame shots. In one shot, Hiyam looks up dreamily into the camera, as she fantasizes about her boss. Erotic fantasies play themselves out metaphorically and literally using allusions to old cinema. Hiyam watches an old movie in black and white on a television, underscoring the theme of nostalgia. Scenes of Hiyam going to and from work depict the protagonist in her everyday life: the working class buildings and tenements in Cairo; the factory floor. Hiyam peers through a window in one scene, clearly symbolizing the fact that she stands on the outside looking in. Yet there is always a look of hope and empowerment on Hiyam's face. When the audience sees Salah, it is always through the eyes of Hiyam. Khan is adept at allowing the audience insight into Hiyam's psyche and inner world, and mis-en-scene is the primary means by which this illusion is achieved. For example, in one scene, Hiyam and Salah run into each other in a stairwell in the factory. It is Hiyam's face that occupies the attention of the director, and the camera devotes itself to her and not him. Group scenes of the factory offer a visual and conceptual overview of the daily social lives of working class Egyptian women, with their collective fears and needs. The filmmaker re-creates the complex world of the factory women, showing their use of gossip, socialization, norming, and other sociological mechanisms. Hiyam remains the only character the viewer gets to know in any depth, and it is because of the directors determination to feature Hiyam's psychological makeup on screen that this is possible.

2. Born into Brothels

The children of prostitutes are not typical subjects for a documentary, which is why Zana Briski and Ross Kauffman's documentary won the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature in 2005. The film depicts the children of prostitutes in Calcutta (now spelled Kolkata), which adds extra layers of depth related to the entrenched class stratification system, gendered identities, and ethnicities. Briski and Kauffman also earned accolades, or at least attention, by engaging their subjects in a most unique manner: by placing the camera in their hands. Empowering the children in this way allows for a nuanced and personal perspective. The filmmakers also allow for a unique ethnography, in which participants and not observers determine the core content of the documentary. Although there is editorial discretion ultimately in the piecing together of Born into Brothels, the film gives a voice to a cohort of people not typically offered one. The filmmakers are also activists, in that they offer the children access to Western education and an opportunity to extricate themselves from their situation. Some seize the opportunity, whereas others do not.

In 2002, several years prior to the release of Born into Brothels, French filmmaker Nicolas Philbert covered the realities of rural schooling in France with the feature-length documentary To Be and to Have. Depicting the small community with impressionistic detail, Philbert shows viewers the possibilities of early childhood education outside of the trappings of urban life. The teacher at the heart of the documentary is Georges Lopez, who is shown to be a holistic and compassionate instructor helping his students discover multiple methods of learning and interacting with their environment. Because the environment is a rural region, the children are frequently shown out of doors. They do learn traditional subjects, but social learning and enculturation are also important aspects of a child's education.

As filmmaking is concerned, Born into Brothels and To Be and to Have could not be any more different. They are both about children, and they are both documentaries. Both films impart a hopeful message about the innocence and potentiality of children. Both filmmakers utilize the camera and construct mis-en-scene in ways that are evocative and creative, rather than providing a dry documentary using techniques like interviewing. There are impressionistic and almost abstract dimensions to both films, via their use of music as well as composition and editing.

However, that is the extent of their similarities. These two films diverge on almost every other aspect. To Be and to Have is about a rural region of France; whereas Born into Brothels is about an urban enclave in India. Born into Brothels is designed to inspire political action and change; whereas To Be and to Have offers more of an artistic snapshot into a way of life that is slowly fading from consciousness in the modern Western world. As Briski and Kauffman point out at the onset of Born into Brothels, it is difficult to film in the red light district because what goes on there is actually illegal and people are afraid. In rural France, there was some reluctance in opening the community to the filmmaker but resistance was not felt to the same degree as it might have been in India.

Cinematographically and conceptually, these two films differ significantly, too. Briski and Kauffman take advantage of the grittiness of their subject matter and its setting to cover the dark elements of life in the red light district of Kolkata. The children are in control of the drama, but when the children become their own directors, they also reveal the world through their eyes. In their eyes, the brothels and back lanes of the red light district in Kolkata are looming large before them. Their future seems locked into this same small world. The film helps the children to expand their world, which is precisely the documentarians' point. Interspersing sweeping wide-angle shots of the red light district from overhead windows with extreme close-ups of facial features allows the filmmakers to show the issue of prostitution from multiple angles and points-of-view. It is a complex issue, demanding the use of creative and dynamic mis-en-scene that varies from shot to shot. One of the remarkable things that Briski does in Born into Brothels is to also interject sepia-toned stills into the film. For this reason, I certainly prefer the exceptional Born into Brothels overall.

To Be and to Have is a slower film generally. Many of the scenes are drawn-out, allowing the director to linger a long time in moments. Mis-en-scene is constructed differently because of it. As with Born into Brothels, there is a juxtaposition between wide angles and close-ups but rarely does Philibert use extreme close-ups of facial features. On the contrary, no one person is given intense scrutiny on camera. Occasionally, the viewer stays a long time with one boy, and with the teacher. Yet the emphasis is on atmosphere. More frequent wide-angle shots of the room and especially of the rural setting of the schoolhouse impart an expansive feel, which contrasts distinctly with the claustrophobia emanating from the red light district in Calcutta. To Be and To Have is about creating emotion, mood, and nostalgia. Born into Brothels is about compassion and social justice. There are multiple dynamics at play in each of these documentaries, and the filmmakers use their craft to the best of their ability to achieve their respective goals.

3. Changing perceptions on film

All of the films we encountered in class changed my perception of the value and purpose of films. I have always known that film can be a powerful medium for social change. Whether documentary or fiction, or based on a true story, films can inspire people to think differently about key issues and even encourage a viewer to take action that can change the world. This is true especially for films like Born into Brothels, which is as remarkable from a filmmaking standpoint as it is about the actual subject of children living in Calcutta's red light district. The filmmaker's dedication to her art is evident in her willingness to live and work in the brothels, rather than to come in for a few weeks or month with a film crew and treat the subject like an outsider. She creates an ethnography for her viewers, but one that is not pedantic and dry. Instead, the ethnography is artistic and aesthetically pleasing. It is artistic and educational at the same time, which reaches the pinnacle of filmmaking. Other films we watched, such as Twelve Years a Slave, are also fusions of art and education. Yet Twelve Years A Slave is about the past and does not necessarily inspire action. Born into Brothels is about the present -- about things happening right now all over the world.

Artistically, Born into Brothels was well-deserving of its Academy Award. There are several techniques the filmmaker uses that are unique and worthy of attention. Fusing photographic stills with live action camera work presents different angles and points-of-view. This also takes away the sense that we are supposed to watch the linear projection of time. Most of the world's most masterful films are those that play with time. The human mind does not work in as linear a fashion as we would like to think. A simple story is constructed with a beginning, a middle, and an end. A complex and meaningful story takes into account the fact that the human mind can be in the past, present, and future at the same time. Memories, emotions, and relationships transcend time. Film can show us how time is loose and elusive. Layering images like photographic stills with interviews and live action, the filmmakers in Born into Brothels shows the film student the power of the art.

Of course, it is the empowerment of her subjects that makes Briski's film so powerful and different from other documentaries. She alleviates some of the problems with filmmaker bias by giving her subjects the camera. The children tell their story through their eyes, and not just by responding to Briski's questions. Teaching the children how to use the camera, Briski asks them to be active participants in their own drama and narrative. The film becomes a partnership between Briski and Kauffman, on the one hand, and the children on the other. If the children were simply taking selfies for social media, they would not have the broader social vision that the filmmaker had. Without the children's participation, Born into Brothels would be just another documentary about India. Instead, the film is far beyond a typical documentary. It is an organic and realistic snapshot of life.

I appreciate also the fact that there is no moralistic judgment in Born into Brothels. There is no pity, either. The filmmakers are highly respectful of their subjects, which is why the children are empowered to take pictures and control their own discourse. The viewer has more respect for the women and mothers than prior to watching the film. Instead of being angry at the mothers, the viewer accepts reality for what it is, which is exactly what the children want, anyway. They are all happy children, too. Western viewers will be tempted to project their values onto the situation, and bemoan the plight of the children for having to work or for living the way they do; and yet that was not the filmmaker's intent. The intent of the film is to inspire the viewer to see the world differently, and to cease judging. Social justice and activism are implied, but they are not mandated by pity. When one of the girls muses on "what I could become" if she were able to go somewhere else and have an education, the viewer's heart is wide open. This is the power of film: to have direct insight into the mind and heart of another human being.

Born into Brothels shows that film can be a transformative medium. Filmmaking empowers the children in the movie, by showing them that they can take pictures and film just like the strange foreigner who wanted to live with them. They, too, can go to school, learn filmmaking or any other trade, and fulfill whatever creative dreams they have. If they choose, they can return to their families and do whatever they want. The children depicted in the film are strong and empowered. They do not feel sorry for themselves. The female children are in many ways more empowered and determined than the boys. This shows that when a female role model like the filmmaker appears in their lives, doors of perception open. The children ascertain the possibilities of life beyond the walls of the red light district. It becomes possible to dream. Unfortunately, many of the children will not be able to take advantage of the opportunities available to them, and those opportunities are also not necessarily available to all of the children living as they do. Film is powerful, but it is not a panacea. Knowing what I know about films, I would follow in the footsteps of Briski to create something of lasting value and worth that made a difference in the world.

4. Which film would I fund?

If I had to choose a film from the list to fund, I would pick Return to the Valley of the Jews by Habib Battah. This film depicts a little-known facet of Lebanese and Jewish society. One of the most significant features of the story is the complex nature of personal identity. Is identity linked to ethnicity or to nationalism? What happens when those two elements conflict? Also, many viewers may live under the false assumption that Arab society is monolithic and that Jewish society is likewise. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Jewish culture is diverse due to the diaspora, and Arab society is diverse as well with many points of convergence and divergence. It is also important to show that Jews in the diaspora prior to the creation of the state of Israel lived throughout the Middle East and Maghreb. There is a false belief that Jews and Arabs are long enemies. This is not true at all. In fact, the Arabs were once the best friends and allies of the Jews. Muslims have historically been far more welcoming and tolerant of Jews than Christians ever were.

The modern realities are far different, which is why the film Return to the Valley of the Jews is important. Embedded in the film is the message of hope that peace can one day reign in the Middle East. Jews and Muslims share common enemies. The enemy is not a person from another religion, but rather, people who abuse power. Destruction of churches, mosques, and synagogues plagues all the Peoples of the Book, who should be uniting against common causes of oppression. This film shows how divisions between Sunni and Shia are more significantly destructive than the state of Israel to stability in the Middle East.