Film Sequence Blog

The scene opens with Sydney making a long walk from the back of a large room at some unspecified award ceremony, presumably for his work in Cambodia, looking stern. The lighting is high key, appropriate for the circumstances, but also an indication of the publicity of the place. Sydney receives abundant applause but does not look pleased, and instead spends his entire speech talking of the inadequacies of the US government and how the award should be award to Pran, not him. He speaks of Pran as an equal and a fellow journalist, a marked departure from when he first works with Pran in Cambodia and treats him more as an intern.

The scene then cuts to a tracking shot of a jovial-looking man in large glasses, walking briskly through the crowd at what appears to be a reception for the award event. The man passes Sydney and does not acknowledge him, but the camera ceases tracking and settles on Sydney. I found this small sequence slightly confusing to interpret. Initially I passed it off as fancy but unnecessary camera work, but under closer inspection, it may carry more meaning. The expression on the mans face is happy and excited, and when the camera settles on Sydney it shows his expression as perfunctory and bored. Sydney quickly there after excuses himself to the rest-room, an escape from the crowd. He seems uncomfortable with the people at the event, as if he were more accustomed to the rough, hot life in Cambodia, and was still yet experiencing American culture shock that inevitably accompanies one on their return home from a developing country.

The bathroom is low-key lighting, and much quieter than the noisy bustle of the party. A young man approaches Sydney and asks for an autograph, saying he is a “big fan.” Sydney looks surprised by this, as if he was unaware people liked his work. He agrees almost as an afterthought, and as he signs the paper, Al walks into the rest room. The exchange between Sydney and Al is much different than any in the past. Al, too, looks bitter and exhausted, having changed a lot since we were first introduced to him in the beginning of the film. While we have previously seen Al as light hearted and occasionally aloof, here he appears angry. Their heated exchange ends with Sydney shouting “You can’t get onto a god damn plane and make the whole world come out alright!”

Later, a camera tracks Sydney’s sister cleaning up a kitchen late at night in low-key lighting. The television is playing off screen, and Sydney is curled in a chair, out of focus, in the background. The television is playing a news clip of Sydney with a reporter, and he is curt and frustrated. The reporter asks him about his next project and Sydney responds, “I don’t understand the purpose of your question.” When his sister comes in, he turns off the television and begins talking to her, as if she were a therapist. Instead of looking her in the eyes, he toys with his shoes. He discusses the guilt he feels for leaving Pran in Cambodia, and how he “never really gave him a chance to leave.” As Sydney speaks, angles switch from portraying him to portraying his sister, so that the audience can see her pained expression. It is clear from this that she also suffers from Sydney’s bout of depression as well, as she takes care of him. The scene ends as Sydney looks up, but not at the camera, with tears in his eyes. “He stayed because I wanted him to… I stayed because….”

The scene fades into the next, an unmoving shot of a dead body in a field of Cambodia. Instead of allowing Sydney to finish his sentence, the director chose to allow you to interpret his motives for staying in Cambodia through the next image. Sydney stayed in Cambodia because he was reporting the news, and the brutality of the civil war was definitely news. 

NYT Cambodia coverage

It is interested to examine the political sides taken by the reporters in these articles. I noticed while reading that at times it seemed like the reporters were taking strong moral stances against the war without suggesting plausible political solutions. The New York Times article “Children Starving in Once-Lush Land,” besides its dramatic title, is filled with sob-stories about children suffering from malnutrition and over-crowded hospitals. It points the finger of blame at insufficient US humanitarian aid, but at the same time acknowledges that the city is entirely reliant on American supply for survival. It was frustrating to see a reporter editorialize an article to such an extent without suggesting an improved solution.

A common thread throughout the articles is the separation of Cambodian civilians from the civil war. They are portrayed as unwilling victims of political tragedy. In fact, the articles seem so focused on the civilian plight that they forget to detail what the insurgents are actually fighting about. It takes until article 4 to discuss the Khmer Rouge, and even then the details surrounding their mission are hazy. They are described as a rag tag collection of rebel factions, with unclear leadership and no goal other than over throwing Lon Nol. It seems to be unclear if they are even communists.

As the articles progress, Marshal Lon Nol, the military leader ruling Cambodia during the war, is portrayed as incompetent. His first introduction tells only his name and his rise to power through a bloodless coup. The second introduction portrays him as helpless and limping. He calls a press conference to instill confidence in reporters, which recorded in full in the NYT as “’I wish you a nice morning,’ he says ‘We wish you a nice morning, too,’ a reporter replies. The interview is over.” On his third introduction, he is described as “a superstitious mystic who has been partly crippled since a stroke four years ago.” His title as ruler of Cambodia is conspicuously absent from this elongated epithet. 

Twilight Los Angeles 1992 Movie

Seeing the movie form of Twilight Los Angeles 1992 forced me to reconsider some judgments I made during my reading of the play. Anna Smith’s interpretation of the characters, drawn directly from her encounters with the real people she portrays, shows their attitudes to the events, in some cases, as much different from the way I read the monologues.

For example, when I initially read “Heads in Shame,” I thought the speaker was bitter, almost angry. Heads in Shame is spoken by a male juror of the first Rodney King trial. He speaks condemningly of his encounters with the press after the verdict was announced, and deeply questions the reactions of the public. While reading this and later discussing it with classmates, I inferred the inflection of his voice to be laden with the bitterness of having to endure the consequences of a verdict he still perceived to be just.

Instead, Smith portrays the man as quiet, reserved, and deeply sad. In retrospect, this seems to be a much more real emotional response. After all the time that elapsed between the trial and the interview with Smith, it makes sense that bitterness and anger towards an unfeeling mob would dissolve, and all that remains would be the profound unhappiness with the unfortunate turn in his life. He speaks of his privacy being blatantly violated by the press, and in turn receiving support from the KKK, which he viewed as further condemnation of his actions.

                The portrayal of the riot participants was also enlightening. All riot participants (who, coincidentally, happen to be black) are depicted in a mad frenzy, wildly destructing the props placed haphazardly around the stage with no purpose beyond devastation for its own sake. This discounts the political undertones of the riots by showing the aimless targeting of victims and property, yet perfectly communicates the collective “blind rage” that overtook South Central after the verdicts.

                The director also made an interesting choice by intertwining the monologues of Daryl Gates, the Chief of LAPD, and June Park, a Korean whose husband was killed by rioters. Parks emotional testimony about the needless death of her husband contrasts harshly with Gates’ casual, careless defense of his inaction during the first hours of rioting. The scene truly touches on the divide between the police and the victims. When faced with the danger of confronting the mob with an understaffed force of officers, the LAPD repeatedly choose to wait out the horde. Meanwhile, people such as Reginald Denny were being beaten nearly to death, with no repercussions for the aggressors. The scene, to bystanders, the media, and the rioters was thus determined to be a free-for-all, which perpetuated violence.

Twilight Los Angeles 1992

Twilight Los Angeles attempts to demonstrate the public reactions to Rodney King through a series of interviews translated into monologues by the author.  The monologues are hyper-realistic, with little abridgment to make them more palatable to read or act out. Verbal ticks, such as “ums” and hesitations, remain imbedded amongst profound thoughts on social equality, creating for the reader a surreal stream of consciousness enveloping an entire community. For me, the play created a wide angle snapshot of reactions in Los Angeles during 1992, artificially constructing a universal conscience that shows the wide range of emotions elicited by the Rodney King trials.

Smith spends most of her time focusing on the racial issues at hand, and does so by examining as many perspectives as she can. From the lawyers defending to the police and government officials to black community leaders and riot participants, she truly attempts to examine every angle she can, but always with the goal of highlighting the racial issues at stake.

 From the point of view of the LA gang member, the riots “Show how a black person gets treated in this [South Central] community” (p100).  Blacks’ perceptions of the police force become clear through throughout the monologues. Police are seen as the “enemy” sending the black community to jail or “the cemetery” (p32). They describe the city as “being at war with its own children.” (p29) It becomes clear that tolerance for the loose ethical standards of the police department was an ineffective method for change, akin even to complacency. Stories are told throughout the play of previous encounters with the brutal LAPD, whom are accepted as racist ruffians without much thought considering their history amongst South Central residents. I found this to

While many blacks did not approve of the riots, their sentiments are made clear by scholar Cornel West, stating “The best we can do is hold up a bloodstained banner of a black struggle that is rooted in moral vision and yet acknowledging the fact that a power struggle will be fundamental for any change.” (p45) This begins the internal debate between morality and meaningful action for the black community, and whether both can be achieved in tandem under the circumstances present in LA.

When a community is systematically beaten and broken, what place does that leave for morality? Frustration overflows in absurd demonstrations of rage, massive anarchical riots with no purpose other than to demonstrate the anger of the disenfranchised. For the so-called-powerless, the simple act of defying authority can inspire the illusion of social power, even though its ultimate consequences are further social marginalization. As a US congresswoman from California said, “The fact of the matter is, whether we like it or not, riot is the voice of the unheard.” (p162)

The voice speaking for the rioters in LA didn’t seem to make sense to a lot of people. Perhaps it was the fact that this view of the world had been so suppressed that its entry into the public sphere of thought had to be rammed into people’s minds with constant scenes of violence. As bystanders, we lament the victimization of innocent people like Reginald Denny, who was senselessly beaten into a coma when pulled from his truck by rioters for an offence that “didn’t have anything to do with [him]” (p104). The riots might have made a strong impression on Americans about the unforeseen power of those we considered toothless, but it deepened the cultural rift that is the root cause for inequality to begin with.

“This is not my united states anymore. This is sicko.” (p93) This comes from a reporter for the LA Times who was reviewing media from the riots. Riots are not how decent, civilized people react to things that did not go as they expected. Moreover, the mass hysteria captured by footage of the riots portrays faceless black aggressors as animal predators preying senselessly on whites. They seem devoid of regular human reactions. “If you saw an animal being beaten, you would go over and help an animal.” (p95) Without fully understanding the years of frustration being vented in physical antagonism, rioters are easily viewed by the public as irrational and dangerous.

The truth behind the situation is harder to discern then initially thought. The attorney who defended Officer Briseno, one of the officers who beat Rodney King, found the public reaction to the second trial’s verdicts almost as troubling as the riots. When President Clinton publically announced that “Justice had finally been served” to the police officers responsible, all he could think was “What does he know?... Is it the truth of Koon and Powell being guilty, or is it the truth of the society that has to find them guilty in order to protect itself?” (p243).