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People Were More Afraid of The Poetry

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  • People Were More Afraid of The Poetry

    'PEOPLE WERE MORE AFRAID OF THE POETRY': Sally Potter's
    east-meets-west movie features an English pot-washer hurling abuse at
    'Arab bombers'. Did such topicality worry its backers? No - but the
    rhyming dialogue got them really scared. Duncan Campbell repo
    The Guardian - United Kingdom; Jul 29, 2005

    DUNCAN CAMPBELL


    When Sally Potter started writing the screenplay for Yes on September
    12 2001, she can little have imagined the grim timeliness of its
    opening in London. The new film by the director of Orlando deals with
    that angry gulf between west and east that lay behind the attacks on
    both New York and London. At the film's heart is a love affair between
    an Irish-American scientist (played by Joan Allen) and a refugee
    Lebanese surgeon (Simon Abkarian) who can find work only as a cook in
    Britain.

    At the centre of the affair is the imbalance between the wealthy,
    guilty westerner and the angry, disenfranchised Middle Easterner, who
    is forced by his refugee status to use his surgical skills to slice
    aubergines rather than abdomens. There are below-stairs tensions with
    his fellow kitchen staff. In one scene he is berated by an angry
    English washer-up: "This country's full of wankers dressed in sheets/
    Asylum fucking seekers in our streets/ And taking all our fucking
    jobs. Arab wanks!/ And then what do they do to give us thanks?/ They
    fucking blow us up!"

    And if backers for the film were nervous about the politics it
    presented, they were even more concerned about the form of the script:
    it is written entirely in iambic pentameters, from an opening
    soliloquy on dirt by the couple's cleaner (played by Shirley
    Henderson, a one-woman Greek chorus with a J-cloth) to the final
    scenes in the Caribbean.

    "People were much more afraid of the iambic pentameters than the
    politics which are relatively oblique, because there is deliberately
    no overt message or actual event," says Potter. It is in verse, she
    said, because "it just came out that way" and she instructed her
    actors to "ignore the rhyme, ignore the form, just concentrate on the
    sense and the emotion". James Joyce, the last word of whose novel
    Ulysses gives the film its title, also played a part. "I wanted to
    find some cinematic equivalent to the stream of consciousness."

    Yes was made for around pounds 1m, which included pounds 450,000 from
    the UK Film Council, a tiny budget given the location shoots and
    high-profile cast, who along with the crew worked for partially
    deferred payments - which means they get fully paid only when the film
    makes money. This shortage of funds has led to Potter having to play a
    large part in a shoestring marketing operation, from writing a blog
    about its progress to appearing at countless question-and-answer
    sessions with audiences at festivals and openings. Often she has been
    accompanied by Allen or Abkarian, a Paris-based Armenian actor from
    Beirut whom Potter met and was impressed by five years ago when she
    was casting for her previous film, The Man Who Cried. She has already
    taken Yes to half a dozen countries, including Turkey, the US and
    Mexico, and once it has opened in Britain she will be off with it
    under her arm to Japan and Romania.

    One of the points Potter says she wanted to make is that Americans are
    often seen in monolithic stereotypical terms just as Muslims and
    Middle Easterners are. "I wanted to dismantle stereotypes of all
    kinds. The British can be quite casual with their anti-Americanism
    without realising how divided the country is. I was very struck during
    my last trip to see how much opposition there was to the Patriot Act
    and to feel the real atmosphere of fear in the air. People said that
    they were living in an atmosphere where it was increasingly difficult
    to speak out in opposition to the war."

    But what has perhaps made most waves in the US, where the film opened
    last month, has been the choice of Cuba as the place which Allen's
    character is told by her aunt to visit: "Castro . . . gave us hope/He
    did. Oh, yes; he's better than the Pope."

    "Going to Cuba was certainly seen as provocative," said Potter. In
    fact, Cuba's part in the film prompted its own political
    lesson. Because President Bush has banned Americans from visiting the
    island, Joan Allen was advised by her lawyers that she could face a
    heavy fine if she joined the shoot there, so her scenes had to be shot
    in the nearby Dominican Republic and cut into the Cuban
    footage. Havana also doubles as Beirut as the original plans for
    location shooting there had to be abandoned because insurers refused
    cover following the outbreak of the war in Iraq. Potter's position has
    not, however, prevented the film from being held by some US critics to
    be anti-American.

    It arrives in London trailing effusive plaudits from such heavyweights
    as John Berger and Michael Ondaatje, but critics in the US have tended
    either to love or hate it. Roger Ebert found it "erotic beyond
    description . . . it contains politics that are provocative even if
    you find them wrong-headed and has ever a movie loved an actress more
    than this one loves Joan Allen?". In the New York Times, A O Scott was
    unimpressed and found: "This wants to be a movie about love, hate,
    class, religion, ethnicity, science and the fractious state of the
    modern world - but rather than expanding our sense of what it all
    means, Potter shrinks it down to a single syllable. Tempting as it is
    to contradict her yes with a simple no, other responses also come to
    mind. And? So? What?"

    While the critics may differ, Potter said that she had found the
    dozens of audiences with whom she has now watched it to be remarkably
    receptive. "I've always travelled with the films because I want the
    audience to be my teacher so that I can learn for the next one," said
    Potter. "But I have never had the sort of feedback that I've had with
    Yes. In Turkey, which was the first place where the audience was
    predominantly Muslim, the fact that there was a sympathetic Middle
    Eastern man in a main part was a news story, because it was such a
    rarity. The response there was very much more populist than in America
    - we were even in the Turkish Hello!"

    Certainly, Turkish celebrity magazines are a strange destination for
    one of this country's most courageous but underestimated film
    directors. Potter left school as a 16-year-old determined to become a
    film-maker and her earliest work was in the early 1970s with the
    London Film-makers Co-op, one of the most experimental and innovative
    outfits of the time. But she then changed direction and trained as a
    dancer at the London School of Contemporary Dance, later becoming a
    co-founder of the Limited Dance Company. A period in performance art,
    with the actor Rose English, followed, alongside her work as a
    composer with such bands as FIG and the Film Music Orchestra. Those
    different skills all came together when she acted, danced and created
    the score for The Tango Lesson in 1997, but her first film, Thriller,
    a deconstruction of La Boheme, was made more than quarter of a century
    ago in 1979. Her first feature, The Gold Diggers, came four years
    later.

    The first time I met her, more than 20 years ago, she was directing a
    night shoot outside the Bank of England in the City which involved
    besuited men carrying gold bars on their shoulders in a scene from The
    Gold Diggers, another film that fitted no accepted mould and had an
    all-woman crew. Her film-making has always been defiantly original and
    she has, she said, now become used to being described as
    "pretentious". She had her greatest critical success with Orlando in
    1992, starring Tilda Swinton.

    "Everything is now doubly relevant," said Potter of the London
    bombings and the film. "Everything has come much closer to home." In
    one scene in Yes, Abkarian angrily tells Allen: "You think you know it
    all, that you're the best/ One life of yours worth more than all the
    rest" - lines that this week made Potter think of the media coverage
    of the dead in London compared to the simultaneous suicide bombings in
    Baghdad which claimed 10 times as many lives in the week following the
    July 7 attacks.

    Last week, Charles Moore, writing in The Spectator about the London
    bombings, reflected that "after last week's events, there can be few
    white couples with children in London who have not at least considered
    moving out". Potter's film represents the opposite response to that
    fearful negativity and it is unlikely there will ever be a more
    relevant time to see it.

    Yes opens on August 5.
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