I’ve been catching up with Hunger which I had previously missed, watching it and reading interviews and stuff.
It’s a remarkable, skillful, disturbing film, only I’m observing in myselft a strange detachment. I recognized compassion for the prisoners, interest for the prefectly balanced approach of letting us inside the mind of the guard as well as the soldier, and admiration for the central sequence of Sands talking to priest. But I hadn’t seen a film or doc about the Troubles in quite a long time and I remebered I used to get very upset when watching them, so I was expecting something similar to happen, but it didn’t.
It may be because the film is about art and being human, more than on the historical and social aspects of the Troubles, but it could also be because we are all distancing ourselves from the events. It’s a normal process I believe, only it comes to me as a suprise because this time I’m personally involved in the process, for anagraphical reasons.
It is a bit alarming though.
When Thatcher died last year I felt a mix of anger and relief. Then I paid attention to the comments I was hearing around me and relief faded. Most people around me, especially young women and women from the former Eastern Bloc, were expressing appreciation for Thatcher because she was a woman who had a lot of power and a successful career in a male-dominated field. They told me I should see my anger as a thing of the past, that I was just a kid and nothing happened to me really, and I should concentrate on the good aspects of Thatcher’s legacy.
I was shocked.
So why am I not able to distance myself from the miseries of Thatcher’s politics, but apparently I am able to distance myself from the miseries of the Troubles? They are practically the same thing. Is it just because this is a film designed to talk about art and being human, not to talk about the Troubles?
I honestly don’t know. I only know that the creepiest moment was when you can here Thatcher’s words in voiceover.