|
Commentary on the Film
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence
The following is an
excerpt (Part II) from "Symbolic Action, Drama, and Conflict, With a
Commentary on the Film Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence."
The complete essay can be found by clicking on the "Essays" link above
and selecting that title from the list.
Part
II
The symbolic
action view of language, which Kenneth Burke has called "dramatism,"
meshes nicely with the metaphor of "framing." The three-dimensional
equivalent of a frame is a stage. The stage, like the frame, is more a
mental creation than a physical one. Staging, like framing, is a way of
re-contextualizing—it constitutes a certain way of looking,
of
sectioning off experience and placing it in an observational
perspective. Drama as the blend of word and deed, of literature and
performance, is a perfect metaphor for conveying the unity of language,
action, and motive Burke's views require. It is in this sense that
Burke sees language-using as dramatistic—that is, invariably
action and motive oriented—to the extent that words cannot be
disentangled from motives, to the extent that understanding behavior
poses the same problem as understanding the meaning of a word. With the
special way of looking referenced in the concept of "staging," all
symbolic actions become dramaturgical when framed or staged by the
observational perspective. Life can be seen as drama and drama can be
seen as life; one can inform the other. Methods of analysis appropriate
to understanding and criticizing symbolic actions already exist in the
methods used by literary critics. By the same reasoning, the portrayals
in drama—in particular dramatic productions—can
betray
workings of conflict in life that may often go unnoticed. Certainly the
inextinguishable human interest in drama and the inseparability of
drama and conflict suggest that analyzing dramatic conflict may yield
insights into core human motives and the possibilities for managing
conflicting motives.
Many dramatic
productions offer exceptional insights. But with respect to the theme
at hand—the inevitability of point-of-viewness and its role
in
creating and resolving conflict—some candidates are more
illustrative than others. The film Merry Christmas, Mr.
Lawrence
(1983) is a fine dramatic example of extreme conflict and capably
illustrates the importance of a well-developed ability for framing with
respect to conflict management.
The location in
time and place for most of the action in the film is Java, 1942. War is
the most destructive form of human conflict, but the setting for the
film—a Japanese prisoner of war camp—provides a
context for
a form of interaction between the combatants other than deadly
violence. In prisoner of war camps during WWII this interaction would,
at the very least, consist of various acts of dominance, submission and
intermittent defiance. A cinematic portrayal of this cycle would not
necessarily be particularly noteworthy. But in this film, the arousal
of an undercurrent of mutual respect between the four central
characters alters the nature of the conflict, creating exceptional
drama and a key insight into the roots of conflict.
The film opens
with a scene in which a Japanese sergeant, known to the prisoners as
"Hara," is attempting to extract a confession from a Korean guard whom
he believes has sexually attacked a Dutch prisoner. A British officer,
John Lawrence, has been summoned by Hara to witness the episode.
Lawrence intervenes and wants to discover exactly what happened by
questioning the men. When the Korean guard attempts to commit suicide
with Hara's approval and assistance, Lawrence tries to stop both men.
Hara is enraged at Lawrence's tolerant attitude and his attention to
explanations. For Hara, what these men have to say is irrelevant.
This incident
establishes the primary theme for the film. Hara cannot understand
Lawrence's interest in seeing other points-of-view. He interprets this
interest as weakness. Moreover, Hara regards this interest as weakness
heaped upon weakness because the Japanese look upon all prisoners as
weak for having allowed themselves to be captured rather than taking
their own lives. Prisoners are not only treated as prisoners but also
as men who are not quite men—men contaminated by a dangerous
spiritual impurity.
But Hara
nevertheless senses that Lawrence is different. Like other prisoners,
he exhibits little fear of the Japanese, but, unlike the others, his
lack of fear is motivated by a measure of respect rather than hatred.
Hara, confused by Lawrence's knowledge and appreciation of Japanese
language and culture, grudgingly respects his unusual attitude and
strength while despising his "sympathy” and tolerance. For
him,
Lawrence projects incompatible traits. The perceived anomaly in
Lawrence's character makes it difficult for Hara to deal with him in a
routine way.
When a new
prisoner, Jack Celliers, enters the camp, the tension between the
prisoners and the Japanese grows to a crescendo. Celliers, a British
commando, attracts the attention of the camp
commander—Yonoi—who finds in Celliers' composure
and
behavior qualities analogous to those that Hara has encountered in
Lawrence. Yonoi is also favorably impressed by Celliers’
imposing
physical appearance (blond hair and classic Caucasian features) and his
defiant yet measured manner.11 Celliers possesses physical qualities
and leadership charisma admired by the Japanese culture, so the
Japanese military court, and especially Yonoi, is inclined to be
lenient with him and spare his life.
But the
circumstance of war does not permit, from the Japanese point-of-view
view, any significant relaxation of the motives for war.
Hara’s
and Yanoi’s troubling attraction to the admirable qualities
of
Lawrence and Celliers fuels their need to unmask these traits as
ultimately false, as a facade concealing weakness, wrong-headedness,
and the kind of character that ought to belong to an "enemy." As Hara
and Yanoi struggle to keep from sinking into the doubt about their
motives and actions that would be created by getting outside their
patriotic-militaristic point-of-view, Lawrence and Celliers, in
parallel conflict, struggle to see beyond themselves, to prevent the
retreat to entirely personal perspectives—dominated by pain
and
abuse—that would lead down the path of profound hatred for
the
Japanese.
Tensions are
heightened when Yonoi forces the prisoners to be present at the
execution of the Korean homosexual. In response to the
prisoners’
lack of proper respect and cooperation at this execution
“ceremony,” Yanoi enforces upon them a
“spiritual
cleansing” in the form of a 48 hour fast and confinement to
the
barracks. The following day, in the presence of Yanoi, Celliers openly
defies the rules of this fast by eating flowers and manju cakes he has
gathered from the jungle. At the same time, during the inspection of
the barracks, the guards find a concealed radio. Yanoi holds Lawrence
accountable for the radio and both he and Celliers are taken to the
cells.
Later that night,
a Japanese aide to Yanoi—acting on his belief that Celliers
is an
“evil spirit” intending to ruin
Yanoi—attempts to
kill Celliers after breaking into his cell. Instead, Celliers knocks
him unconscious, escapes, and finds Lawrence badly beaten and tied to a
post. While fleeing with Lawrence toward the jungle, he suddenly
encounters Yanoi. Brandishing a knife taken from his would-be assassin,
Celliers confronts Yanoi. But after Yanoi draws his sword and prepares
to fight, Celliers lays down his knife—offering only a
cryptic
smile to Yanoi. Outraged, Yanoi screams at him “Why
won’t
you fight!! If you defeat me you will be free!!” Celliers
continues smiling at Yanoi. Guards finally arrive and Lawrence,
half-delirious from beatings and exhaustion, whispers to Celliers,
“Jack, I think he’s taken a bit of a shine to
you.”
The next day
Yanoi sentences Lawrence to death as punishment for the hidden radio.
When Lawrence protests that he is not responsible, Yanoi says that he
understands this. In disbelief Lawrence asks, “So
I’m to
die to preserve your sense of order?” Yanoi answers,
“Yes,
you understand, Lawrence. You must die for me.” After an
outburst
of rage, Lawrence is restrained by a guard and finally asks Yanoi,
“What’ll happen to Major Celliers? You
wouldn’t
execute him for such a crime?” Yanoi calmly states that that
is
“none of his business” but then asks if Lawrence
would like
to see Celliers before he dies. Lawrence says “yes”
and is
taken to a cell next to where Celliers is being kept—a wall
separating them. Here, during the night, they exchange stories about
their past.
Lawrence tells
Celliers about a woman he had met a few days prior to the fall of
Singapore. Anticipation of the Japanese landing fills the local
residents with an apocalyptic anxiety that merges with the fatalistic
attitudes of the unprepared and outnumbered defending troops. In a
foreign place among foreign people, waiting for a foreign enemy,
Lawrence feels profoundly lost, his actions empty and meaningless. At
the hotel where he is temporarily quartered, he befriends a young
woman, telling her what he knows about the timing of the impending
invasion. They share an evening in conversation and plan to meet for
breakfast. But Lawrence is drawn away in the night when the Japanese
attack begins and does not return to the hotel for a
“few”
days. When he returns, he finds her waiting for him in the same place
she was standing when he left her the evening of their last meeting. He
has the sensation that she never moved. After this second meeting, they
never see each other again. But Lawrence, seeing with more than his own
eyes, has found the point-of-view that turns the foreign landscape into
more than a place and the people into human beings.
Celliers
describes his relationship to his younger brother whom he felt shame
for as a member of his family because he viewed him as failing to live
up to his standards of stature and behavior. While Celliers is
handsome, athletic, well-liked, and capable at most undertakings, his
brother is short, slightly deformed, introverted, and capable at skills
like singing and gardening. The differences between the two produce a
tension that ultimately results in Celliers' betrayal of his brother at
a school initiation. True to Celliers' worst fears, the initiation
escalates into an ugly mocking. While his brother is laughed at and
ridiculed for his deformity (a slight hump on his back), Celliers does
nothing, hiding in shame in a chemistry lab room, unable to associate
himself in any way with his deformed brother. This event, the crowning
deed to a long series of smaller betrayals, eats away at Celliers until
it finally consumes the blindness that separates him from his brother.
He sees and accepts the differences in what they are and what they have
each come to value. His inability to go on despising his brother makes
him question the process of despising anyone—including the
Japanese.
Both stories
vividly describe the experience of being drawn out of oneself to the
extent of fully seeing another's point-of-view—and what it
must
be like to live from that point-of-view. In both cases this experience
of getting outside the self is triggered by someone loved. In each case
a natural bond—attraction on the one hand and blood ties on
the
other—pulls the self outside itself to see beyond the limits
of
current personal motivation, to stretch and broaden personal
perspective. These flashbacks provide the key for understanding the two
men and their exceptional ability for getting outside themselves.
Thinking they are
doomed for execution, Celliers and Lawrence are brought before Hara.
They soon realize that Hara is intoxicated on sake. He informs them
that he has been celebrating their holiday and that, since today is
Christmas, he wishes them a "Merry Christmas." Without
Yanoi’s
awareness or consent, he releases them to go back with the other
prisoners. The two men are stunned by this inexplicable "favor" and the
acknowledgement of their cultural heritage.
The following
morning Yanoi discovers what Hara has done, but, due to his liking for
Hara, is lenient with him. However, in order to save face with the
prisoners Yanoi realizes, with increasing pressure, that he must
extract something from them. The tension in the film reaches its apex
when, having found the limits of his patience with his conflicting
military and personal motives, Yanoi asserts his military motives and
demands that the entire camp—including the
wounded—be
brought to the central courtyard of the compound. Here he insists that
he be informed of the number of weapons experts in the camp. When the
ranking officer Hicksley-Ellis states that there are no munitions
experts in the camp, Yanoi becomes enraged.
At the point when
Yanoi appears ready to execute Hicksley-Ellis, Celliers calmly walks
between them and faces Yanoi. Yanoi strikes Celliers who falls
backwards from the blow. Then Celliers stands up, approaches Yanoi
again, and kisses him on each cheek. Yonoi raises his sword in shock
and rage but finally falls backward, so paralyzed by internal conflict
that he cannot find any effective reaction; the crisis dissolves. When
the scene changes, a new Japanese camp commander has replaced Yonoi.
Celliers is buried in sand up to his neck and left to die in the sun.
The film
concludes with a scene after the war. Lawrence is now visiting Hara in
prison. Hara has been tried and convicted of war crimes and is
sentenced to be executed at dawn. Hara explains that he has requested
Lawrence visit him to see if Lawrence can help him to understand his
sentence. He does not see why he is treated differently from other
Japanese officers and explains that his treatment of the prisoners was
intended only to rid them of their "wrong-headedness" and make them
better men. Knowing Hara and his devoted adherence to the practices of
his culture, Lawrence knows this to be a sincere pronouncement, however
peculiar it might sound to the ears of those who had been victims of
the Japanese military and cultural code. Grasping the instructive irony
in the situation, Lawrence says to him that he is now the victim of men
who think they are right just as Lawrence was the victim of men who
thought they were right in the prisoner of war camp. Hara shows his
understanding and appreciation of this insight by again wishing
Lawrence a “Merry Christmas”—an
expression that has
meaning for Hara as a symbolic gesture of his effort to see across the
cultural divide, to acknowledge a new perspective, to show respect for
the difference and the value of the insight.
Although the
major conflict portrayed in the film is between the Japanese and the
prisoners, a greater contrast in character exists between Lawrence and
Celliers and the ranking British officer, Hicksley-Ellis. This man
never falters from an intense hatred of the Japanese as the "enemy,"
and never shows any desire or capacity to see what manner of person the
enemy is. This dehumanization of the Japanese makes it possible for him
to keep the conflict clearly polarized. For Lawrence, this giving in to
hatred is too easy and constitutes too great a dehumanization of
oneself. However barbarous the Japanese behavior may seem to him, it is
motivated by human values and can be understood. When pressed by Hara
for an explanation of the British "cowardliness" in surrender, Lawrence
says that the British do not commit suicide because they want to keep
on fighting the Japanese. Even as a prisoner, he keeps on fighting by
attempting to bridge the conflict and cultural chasm between them. For
Lawrence, this is how the war is really
“fought”—not
by trying only to overcome the "enemy" by force.
In the book upon which
the film is based, The Seed and the Sower, Celliers
comments, in a parallel way, about the clearing in his feeling about
his brother.
..."I had not
been obedient to my own awareness of life".... Many of his generation,
as he, had been condemned by what he called the "betrayal of the
natural brother in their lives," and could see little in the world
around them beyond the hatred caused by their own rejections.12
The roots of
victimage lie in how people see—how they see the world,
themselves, and other people. This "seeing" is a function of the
capacity for framing, for imagining new perspectives, new ways of
understanding or contextualizing experience. The broader a personal
repertoire of perspectives less likely will be the temptation to see
other people as essentially different from oneself and less likely will
be the fear and hatred necessary for victimage.
Destabilizing Polarization
With respect to
strategy and management, the most difficult type of conflict arises
when point-of-view appreciation and desire for cooperation are largely
unilateral. Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence portrays
this type of
conflict and the strategy involved in overcoming it. The side more
vulnerable, and thereby more inclined toward cooperation, must often
take the first step in the process of decreasing polarization. This
first step toward broadening viewpoints involves eliciting a measure of
respect—respect that goes beyond the type of respect
accompanying
fear—a respect independent of fear. In their refusal to show
abject fear or blind contempt for the Japanese, Lawrence and Celliers
incline the Japanese (with their strong cultural valuation of pride and
competition) to show less fear (and thereby less distrust) and hatred
toward them. With a measure of respect independent of fear comes the
possibility for a measure of trust. This trust is a prerequisite for
any mutual understanding or cooperation.
In the film this
small measure of trust is achieved by a series of apparently
contradictory acts—acts of self-assertion coupled with acts
of
acknowledgement and respect. Celliers does not kill the Japanese
soldier who has tried to kill him nor does he take the opportunity to
attack Yonoi with a knife. While continuing to "fight" the Japanese,
Lawrence nevertheless speaks their language and shows knowledge and
appreciation of Japanese customs. These acts appear contradictory to
the Japanese who interpret them as a vacillation between strength and
weakness—acts of hostility and acts of ingratiation. Instead,
they are overtures and opportunities for reframing the situation. As
the pattern of these acts grows, the Japanese become more inclined to
change their interpretation, more inclined to match the strength
Celliers' and Lawrence's actions reveal rather than risk being
humiliated (in the sense of having received something greater than has
been given). The film suggests that conflict management turns
ultimately on establishing respect—by way of working upon and
taking advantage of the human qualities (in this case the pride) of the
opposition.
Celliers and
Lawrence make use of their unusual qualities—striking
physical
appearance in the one case and knowledge of the Japanese language and
culture in the other case—to push the potential for
destabilizing
the status quo connections (or lack thereof) between the warring
factions. It is hard to hate and victimize someone respected. But to
gain that respect from an adversary requires giving
respect—giving it in a genuine way, in a way that does not
appear
false or ingratiating, in a way that requires seeing from the other
side and thereby seeing value in the other side. As pride is so hard to
set aside in a conflict, it is best used as an ally in winning respect.
This approach to conflict offers the best chance for achieving
destabilization of rigid attitudes in those cases where lack of respect
and a significant power imbalance exist at the outset.
Notes
11. The opening
scene—which is not found in the book The Seed and
the Sower—is
likely included in the film to emphasize the Japanese cultural contempt
(during the time of WWII) for homosexuality. This scene prepares the
way for a separation of Yonoi's admiration for Celliers' physical
appearance and character from a narrowly homosexual interpretation.
Although the possibility of homosexual undertones in Yanoi’s
character should not be entirely dismissed, a strictly homosexual
interpretation would cloud the complex psychological/cultural quality
of conflict within Yonoi.
12. Laurens Van Der
Post, Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (New York:
Quill, 1983), pp. 149-150. Originally published by William Morrow
& Co., Inc. in 1963 as The Seed and the Sower.
Click on the
following link to preview works on Media Violence
Top of
Page ↑
Copyright © Gregory Desilet 2005
All trademarks are the property of their respective owners.
Digital photography and website designed by
WebNet Solutions
|