‘BABY OF MACON’
Misunderstood Classic
British filmmaker Peter Greenaway has been making films for over two decades, not once has he made a feature that could be considered commercial. The filmmaker’s mantra is that we have not seen films, but “110 years of illustrated text”. Obviously, he was taking a jab at mainstream cinema (i.e., Hollywood) that relies heavily on literary sources and remakes for inspiration. “Baby of Macon”, made in 1993, exemplifies Greenaway’s non-commercial aesthetics.
Unfortunately, this is also where he began to lose his audience; even the Europeans who heralded his films since his breakthrough feature “The Draughtsman’s Contract (1982)”, criticized it as being “ugly, empty and stylistically barren”. I will agree that to a certain extent it is “ugly”—in a thematic sense, of course; but accusations that it is “empty” or “stylistically barren” is unwarranted. Greenaway’s sumptuously baroque cinematography and production design are fully on display, although more carefully structured as the narrative is a Masque (a form of 17th Century play that relied on audience participation)—so it is not stylistically barren in any way. Indeed, the lighting and opulent set-design, its constantly animate theatrical nature, is a sight to behold.
As to whether it is “empty”, one need only to pay attention. Often people are more inclined to judge a whole movie from a single controversial scene (specifically the notorious, extended rape sequence). Yet those who’ve stayed on till the end know that the last sequence itself sums up the whole thematic structure of the film: the stagy, theatrical nature of the spectacle and its audience, the audience watching the audience, and in the end the whole cast applauding at the screen—us, the film’s audience.
As with all Greenaway films prior to this, we are again reminded what we’re experiencing is a film and nothing more, and that it’s not a “slice of reality” and never claimed to be. Ever since “The Falls (1980)”, Greenaway’s first feature film, he utilized this self-referencing Brechtian technique to emotionally distance the audience—us—from the “spectacle” unraveling on screen; so that instead of being viscerally involved (something most mainstream pictures aim at) we are placed at a distance to critically judge the actions before us, and finally to self-reflect on how it pertains to the viewer. As I mentioned in my review of “Ran”, Kurosawa achieved the same effect by predominantly using long-shots to distance the viewer from the action, hence creating a similar effect of alienation.
Unfortunately, most audiences judged the “Baby of Macon” based on their own prejudices—sexual, political and religious. The film failed to find an American distributor, mostly due to its scathing position on fundamentalist religion, and Peter Greenaway’s status—even as an arthouse innovator—was unjustly relegated to that of “shock provocateur”. On a positive note, many people are revisiting it on home video to rediscover its artistic merits. Even though the film is set in the 17th century, its themes are undoubtedly contemporary and will continue to be so in years to come.
AS WITH ALL GREENAWAY FILMS PRIOR TO THIS, WE ARE AGAIN REMINDED WHAT WE’RE EXPERIENCING IS A FILM AND NOTHING MORE, AND THAT IT’S NOT A “SLICE OF REALITY” AND NEVER CLAIMED TO BE