Dancing Bread Rolls

I’m copy/pasting a reaction I wrote for another class on this, because I think it ties in well:

Having attended both the film screening on Wednesday and the reading on Thursday, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Nokuthula Mazibuko’s work. What I was expecting for both was very different from what it ended up being, at least for me. I thought that the film would be centered on the violence and injustice of apartheid and the specific student protests that ended tragically. However, the compilation of interviews and photographs that the documentary consisted of seemed to emphasize individual experiences of the events and people involved. It’s difficult to describe the exact angle of the story she was attempting to capture, but I would say that it was much more about the experiences and individuals rather than the event itself. There was no emotion involved, for the most part—merely statement of fact. This is interesting to me, because I expected the people who experienced the events to have more extreme feelings about it, I suppose. At the same time, I think this reflects the world view that she was trying to emphasize about everyone being connected, and the importance of not attaching blame and moving forward, rather than focusing on something in the past. This must be a fairly foreign concept to most western audiences, but it really is a wonderful and unique concept. Emphasis is placed on the present and future; the past is simply a collection of experiences that can be learned from and improved upon, not a source of negative emotion or blame. Usually when I view a film or documentary, I look for a main point. Not finding one initially, I was a little disappointed. However, upon further thought I realized that it wasn’t supposed to be about the event itself, but the people. And not even about their reactions, really—just how they are now. How it shaped them. And what they’re doing with their lives as a result. The excerpts from her novel were similarly focused, even when quoting a woman who was tortured in prison and lost her husband to a car bomber. The tone wasn’t angry, depressed, or regretful—it was all very matter-of-fact. The past is important only in the context of the present and future. This idea, while definitely foreign—and even jarring—at first, is growing on me.

I’m curious–what are everyone else’s thoughts on this? What did you think of her documentary and/or writing? I wasn’t sure I liked the film at first, but now I’m wondering if it was simply because I was looking for the wrong point…