“The Pen is Mightier than the Sword” - Edward Bulwer-Lytton

It does not seem that the three hour documentary, Grin without a Cat produced by filmmaker Chris Marker, is simply a recount of the New Left movements from 1967 to 1977. Rather than simply describing the progressive movement, Marker newly constructs the Leftist movement in the minds of the spectators. His editing acts as the mighty proverbial pen, leaving a more powerful and lasting legacy of the New Left movements then those revolutions of an era long died out. Although Marker’s film documents both the rise and fall of the New Left movements, he simultaneously presents the possibility of a new rise of solidarity among socialists and communists from the ashes of revolutions dashed. It seems that Marker’s proverbial pen (editing) paints a “grin”- the lingering revolutionary essence of the New Left- and poses a challenge to solidify the cat to which the grin belongs- Leftist revolution.

Grin without a Cat is certainly a cinematic tribute to the New Left movements from 1967 to 1977. French filmmaker Chris Marker released the French documentary in its original four hour running time in 1977 under the title Le fond de l’air est rouge. He re-released the film in 1993 to cater to an English speaking audience, cutting one hour from the previous release, adding English subtitles and voice-overs, and re-titling the film Grin without a Cat. The documentary is epic in length, running three hours (180 minutes) and breadth, touching on New Left movements across the globe. The documentary is self-described by Marker as “Scenes from the third world war” and is told in two parts: Fragile Hands and Broken Hands. The documentary ranges from Vietnam to Che’s death, to May 1968 and all that, from Spring in Prague to the Common Program of the Government in France, and onto Chile and what. From one clip to the next the spectator views Paris, Moscow, Berkley, Havana, or Prague to name just a few sites of the film, which continuously jumps back and forth in location and time.

The forefront of the film in my opinion is its style. Although Marker was dubbed writer and director of the documentary, his main contribution, his form of scripting, largely incorporated editing and music selection. It is through the clearly purposeful editing process and music selection that Marker makes his strongest subjective statements. Editing is Marker’s poetry, the unspoken but nonetheless powerful tool of political expression. His editing technique combines footage from a hodgepodge of sources: elements of Marker’s own filming, scenes from pre-released fiction films, raw footage taken on the ground, and unexpected events caught on tape. In the opening scenes, for example, Marker commences the film with outtakes from Sergei Einstein’s 1925 black and white film Battleship Potemkin , referencing the 1905 Russian mutiny. Marker makes the clips his own by coloring over the scenes in a rustic red and interjecting images from the late Sixties.

Marker’s editing style is choppy and his frequent use of scene cuts results in a montage of images, more emblematic than chronological, more poetic than organizational. Although images are grouped thematically, rather than in a clear linear progression, there is a lucid narrative. The film opens with the word “Brother!”; the music commences, and the film begins. Marker opens the film by setting up his most inclusive theme: the brotherhood and solidarity amongst all the New Left movements, whether practical or ideological. This solidarity is represented by Marker through a series of images of the fight against oppression, and then through a series of images of the call for revolution. Firstly, Marker shows, in rapid succession, different clips of police and military repression against demonstrators worldwide including but not limited to France, the US, and Japan. Although the clips span geographic location and time, connecting the images is a powerful aesthetic tool of association. The image of authority and oppression is drilled into the eyes of the viewer, as a function of all nations and societies, an oppression that unites all Leftist movements. Secondly, in the opening scenes of Part One, a montage of individual’s fists gesturing in a strong forward motion indicate that although the individuals hail from different histories and different nations, they all hail to the New Left movement. The succession of images creates the illusion of fluidity and memory, dictating a new reading of the Leftist movement through Marker-colored glasses.

One effective Marker cinematographic technique is the use of chaotic footage, which simultaneously shows the frenzy of the cameraman and embodies the impromptu or hectic moments when an unseen event unfolds. In many of the clips, filming was raw, chaotic, and seemed unfinished, allowing the spectator to truly feel the event. For example, a hand-held shaking camera reveals the rushing of the Pentagon in 1967 by demonstrators to end the war in Vietnam. The chaos of the event is relayed through the chaotic sharp movements of the film as it tries to capture the storming of the Pentagon steps as it unfolds. Likewise at one point during the film Marker remarks, “only looking at the footage now do I see how the camera trembles”. The footage catches the moment and is part of the movement. The spectator is allowed to see the cameraman as an active participant, the role documenting the Leftist events had in helping to create and sustain movements by capturing them on film.

Although the use of collected images could be construed as objective, it is clear that Marker uses speeches, interviews, and images to subtly express his subjectivity. Marker makes France the focus of the film’s attention, appropriate because Marker himself is a French filmmaker, but also because France had an enormously influential Communist Party in which Marker took part. One critic astutely discerned that Marker emphasizes “...radical movements in Vietnam, China, and Latin America, not so much in and of themselves, but as essential for the struggle in Europe” (Fletcher 176). This is an interesting analysis considering that France’s New Left was associated with the Communist Party, whereas American movements of the era were more focused on causes. This is denoted by Marker’s representations of Americans as largely student demonstrators, but including the one Nazi boy hustling demonstrators, and the one American pilot who expressed great joy in bombing the Vietnamese and the countryside. Yet, although Marker highlights the importance of the more Western intellectual movement, with references to Karl Marx and Regis Debray, he does note the suffering of the oppressed in the non-Western world. In a sarcastic moment about fifty-two minutes into the film, Marker states that activists from the Western world talk of pasting posters while he shows real footage of human suffering and prison torture in Vietnam. Marker effectively juxtaposes text and images to create this obvious but nonetheless poignant critique.

In a similar technique of juxtaposition, Marker effectively uses music as a medium of expression and connotation. If one is able to grasp the reference to the socialist soundtrack, the song “Les temps des cerises” was recognized in the credits. The main song of the French commune in 1871 is titled “The Time of Cherries” in English and alludes to a hopeful vision of springtime (Kaplan 241). Although the song itself is not explicitly political, the power of the song is realized in its context to socialist movements. The music choice is an ode, a memory which helps recollect the decade of New Left movements nostalgically.

The film is epic in images, context, and length. Despite the overwhelmingly poignant and poetic images, the film was extremely tedious to watch and even more tedious to successfully absorb. Marker’s extensive use of existing footage assumes that the spectator will pick up on references to both film and historical events, a tall order for one not schooled in the history of the era or a connoisseur of film and documentary. For one familiar with the era, it becomes a montage of familiar images which evokes personal or historical references. For those not as schooled, emotional images such as key Socialist and Communist leaders giving speeches, demonstrations, police repression, military training and images of mercury poisoned victims emphasize the symbolic, allowing for various levels of reading of the film. Perhaps a lack of political knowledge beforehand could lend a more abstract reading of the film, one not necessarily less interesting than an informed reading.

The editing in the film, Marker’s proverbial mighty pen, is his most powerful contribution to the revolution. Despite his portrayal of the rise and eventual fall of the New Left to capitalism, he paints the ‘grin’- remnants of the Leftist movement which still linger. Although many of the leaders of the movement died, including revolutionary leader Che Guevara, Chilean President Allende, and even Czech martyr Jan Palach among many others, the lingering story of revolution does not die with them. The title of the documentary reverberates a faith in the lingering revolutionary spirit. Marker’s film captures the essence of the socialist and communist movements of an era- the 'grin', but his most powerful contribution to the movement is the broader allusion to the cat (which cannot yet be seen)- a new revolution, one to revolutionize the revolutionaries.

References:
Bevan, David. Literature and Revolution. Rodopi perspectives on modern literature, 2. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1989.

Fletcher, Yael Simpson, Persaud, Nalini. “Scenes from the Revolution: A Dialogue on Film, Politics, and History.” Radical History Review 2005 2005: 171-181

Grin without a Cat. Dir. Chris Marker; Iskra Films, Paris, 1993.

Kaplan, Roger F. S. Conservative Socialism: The Decline of Radicalism and the Triumph of the Left in France. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers, 2003.