Sunday, July 6, 2008

Fiddler on the Roof

Question: How do you critique a work that is meant to depict an oppressive society? How do you separate what the society is saying and what the movie is saying?

Yesterday I watched Fiddler on the Roof. I'd been feeling a hankering for the songs (Sunrise, Sunset and La Chaim especially.)

It's difficult, because yes, the three daughters Tzeitel, Hodel, and Chava are very likable characters, and they do rebel against their father, something unheard of in their oppressive society. But to what purpose do the daughters rebel? Not for freedom, but to choose a different owner, a slightly different brand of servitude. This is where my question comes in, because what other life path could they choose? Even outside the bounds of their faith there is really nothing they could do to gain true autonomy. This is just a caution not to view these daughters as liberated.

I think that if they really had decided "screw you, dad, I can make my own life and be free" instead of "screw you, dad, I would like to marry/serve this other man" their characters would not have been portrayed sympathetically. Because the closest character to that ideal is Yenta, and while every character is given some sympathy in the film, she is given the least, and is portrayed as intruding on everyone else's life and not being a welcome sight to anyone. It's okay for the daughters to rebel against the master given to them by their society because they're not really challenging the paradigm that still holds in our society--that a woman needs (must belong to) some man.

And there was a lot of ownership going on from the suitors to their chattel--I mean beloveds.

Least was Motel. I think that the things Motel did were a reflection of his society. In his song Miracle of Miracles, the last line, "God has given you to me" is something that I would frown on if I heard it in a modern song. In the context of their society, though, it seems consistent with the language that he has available to him to describe the nature of his relationship with Tzeitel.

And his extremely rude and bossy handclap as a form of command towards Tzeitel at the wedding was an imitation of Tevye--a clear joke directed to the audience in which we are meant to laugh at their society. (O irony! O infamy!)

Next came Perchik. I don't like Perchik. He was far too physically pushy with Hodel. He was always grabbing her and dragging her somewhere, and doing a "dance" with her that she was clearly an unwilling participant in. (Is this my personal alarm going off? Maybe. I ain't the only one with alarms calibrated so finely, though; not even close: the malady is not a rare one.)

Now, could that just be a reflection of their society? Perhaps, although the movie did go to some pains to establish that Perchik had more respect for women than most men in that society. What wasn't necessary was that the tugging and pulling and dancing led directly to True Love. Aargh.

Okay, and then this Far From the Home I Love thing? It's better than Little Mermaid, because at least Hodel feels sad that she's abandoning her home, her family, and everyone she loves to go live in this strange barren wasteland with her (grabby!) beau--but she still does it anyway. I don't think this is a depiction of her society. Even though her society doesn't exactly oppose her decision, it's not really something that's done very often, and it's not anything they would have encouraged her to do. No, this is our society feeling Hodel's pain but admiring her for making the right decision (doing what our society would have done) and abandoning her identity to serve her master--I mean betrothed.

Last and possibly worst is Fyedka and our little bird Chava. Chava does something very similar to what Hodel does--she abandons her entire identity--her faith!--for this man. (Admittedly Fyedka is much more handsome than Perchik, but beauty is subjective.) This is absolutely not something that was condoned by her society. It is something that we understand given the roles and expectations of our society, and it's harmful.

Equally upsetting was the manner of their meeting. So Chava's out walking her cow when four young Russian men suddenly accost her. The encounter is brief, but you can hear them mocking her language (this is racialized misogyny). She tries to get away. They surround her. Some of them touch her and grab her. She says "please" a few times. I get upset.

But fear not, damsel! Your prince Fyedka has arrived! He quickly sends those gang rapists--I mean ruffians--packing. She's still upset, and I was about to approve, but then what happens? Fyedka guilts her into talking to him by saying "you feel about me the same way they feel about you." Um. Chava is scared of him, and, hey, justification for that attitude is, like, still visible walking across the field. They hate her and were trying to hurt and humiliate her. These are pretty fundamentally different attitudes.

The movie approves of this statement, however, because it gives Fyedka pure intentions and a heart of gold, so that her attitude (although utterly rational) is undermined for our viewing pleasure. Gah, this is just like Hermione all over again.

Damn, I hate that part of the movie.

So there you have it. Perchik and Fyedka are given status over Hodel and Chava that goes beyond what can be explained by their society, and the basic characters of the three daughters are not ones seeking freedom, but rather ones seeking a type of servitude that will make them "happy."

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