Missed Opportunity?

Hotel Rwanda is based on the true story of Paul Rusesabagina, a Rwandan hotel manager who succeeds in helping close to one thousand Rwandans during the 1994 genocide. The film begins pretty positively. We see men in suits talking and we are introduced to one of them, Paul. He comes across as a nice, hardworking family man and the viewer can recognize him and relate to him. Though my dad is not a businessman and almost never wears a suit, I thought of him when I was seeing Paul at the beginning of the movie. As the film progresses we learn that bad things are happening, but we aren’t completely sure what or how bad they are. The impact really hits when brutal killings start to take place in lovely suburban settings with toys in the front yard. The setting looks eerily like our own neighborhoods and the reality of the slaughter starts to take hold. The way in which this story is told really drives home the horror of the Rwanda Genocide of 1994. The viewer is sad, shocked, deeply disturbed.

However, emotional impact does not necessarily mean a change will occur. In his article about the film Anthony Daniels wonders what someone with no knowledge of the genocide will learn from the film: “no one would be unmoved by it, of course: but would he know anything, rather than have felt something new?” Daniels is most concerned about the presentation of facts in the film. He understands that the only way complete context could be offered would be way too long and boring, so he uses his place as a writer to inform us of the deeper issues going on in Rwanda before the genocide. He closes the article by encouraging us to see the film, but gives a good piece of advice for viewers of any film: “we should be careful not to mistake catharsis for understanding.”

I share some of the concerns of Daniels. While Hotel Rwanda is an incredibly powerful film, it seems that the average viewer would probably leave feeling a lot, but not intending to do a lot. Part of the film’s problem is that it shows an historic event in which the Western World (home of most of the film’s audience) did nothing. As viewers we feel bad that our powers stood by while this atrocity happened, but we don’t really know what to do about it. It was almost two decades ago and the younger generation of viewers was too young to be aware of the problem (I was only four). I assume that most viewers are aware that this is not the only case of genocide that has happened (or probably will happen) in our lifetime. For them, there is no real solution offered. We leave the film not knowing what we could do to help in the future. The people who retreat when things get bad are UN officials, not everyday people like us. If we leave the theater thinking about future genocides, we feel helpless. After seeing the helplessness of the people being attacked, we don’t see how we could be of any help.

The Cineaste article points out that the film “supplies an expectation of violence in a context that encourages us to watch, but do little else.” The article also notes that the film makes the viewer see genocide as a force of destruction that is impossible to escape once it has started. The article by Manohla Dargis raises a similar point. Dargis says that the film, “doesn’t rouse me to action; it stirs horror, pity, sometimes repulsion that lingers uneasily until the action starts up again.” I can understand this point based on the scene in which Paul and Gregoire are driving in a dense fog only to find the bumps they have been encountering are not bumps in the road, but a seemingly endless stretch of bodies. This scene is certainly one of the most memorable and horrific, but the shock certainly wears off when they get back to the hotel and more action ensues.

The last thing I think could have hurt the film’s potential for change is the subject itself. Personally, I have not seen E.T., Bambi, or Terms of Endearment because I was told they were so sad and would probably make me cry. When I hear that before I see a film I tend to not want to see it. The death of a cartoon deer is nothing compared to the unnecessary slaughter of a million Rwandans, but Hotel Rwanda becomes watchable because of its personal story elements and moderate use of horrifically brutal scenes. The Dargis article says that this film and others, “evade unpleasant truths about history, power, and ideology in favor of heroic stories.” Paul Rusesabagina’s heroism is certainly what makes this film about genocide bearable. At the same time, this element that makes the film watchable makes its social impact less powerful. The Cineaste article says that this kind of story, “risks transforming the story of genocide, a story where hundreds of thousands died, into a story of those who survived.” I believe this is true of Hotel Rwanda. In the end we understand that everything is not okay, the family lost some members and went through horrific hardship, but in the last minutes of the film the Rusesabagina family learns that their friend from the Red Cross is alive and are reunited with their nieces. Then they all walk off with the buses taking people to safety and the film ends with a beaten, but triumphant freeze frame. Though text on the screen after the film tells the last horrible details of the genocide, the final impact has been made. They made it through and things are going to be okay for them. It almost makes you forget some of the tragedy.

Exculpatory: “…and the world looked away and sat on its hands, not even bothering to wring them in the usual self-exculpatory fashion.”

adj: tending to clear from a charge or guilt