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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.


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