Constructing Celluloid Gypsies
Constructing Celluloid Gypsies
Constructing Celluloid Gypsies
In the past two decades, two directors, Tony Gatlif and Emir Kusturica, have
consistently produced films focused on Romani1 themes. These two film-makers are arguably the most important figures in the contemporary construction
of the image of the Gypsy in cinema. Gatlif is of mixed Algerian and Romani
descent, and hence often viewed as a native informant providing an authentic
representation of his people. In addition, his movies have been distributed in
art houses and have become moderately popular in intellectual circles. It is
likely that the only Gypsy movie with which audiences in the West might be
familiar was made by Gatlif. In contrast, Kusturica has no Romani ancestry,
but his films have been major box-office successes in the Balkans, often outearning Hollywood blockbusters. It is thus likely that the cinematic representation of the Roma to which audiences in that region have been exposed is that
of Kusturica.
I would like to acknowledge the invaluable input of Krista Harper, Professor of Anthropology at
the University of Massachusetts Amherst, without whose comments and guidance this article
would not have been possible.
1. For the purposes of this article I use the term Gypsies to refer to the Romas representation in
films and other narratives. I use Roma to refer to the ethnic group itself, not to its representation.
Nikolina Dobreva is a Ph.D. Candidate in Comparative Literature at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, 430 Herter Hall, 161 Presidents Drive, Amherst, ma 010039312. Email:
dobreva@complit.umass.edu
Romani Studies 5, Vol. 17, No. 2 (2007), 141154 issn 15280748
142
nikolina dobreva
143
The first question that needs to be addressed in this context is that of Romani identity. While certain authors (e.g. Malvinni 2004) claim that the shared
bond of the Roma is only a fiction, most sociologists and anthropologists do
not share such straightforward views. In his book Gypsy Identities, 15002000,
David Mayall (2004) examines some of the literature on the subject and concludes that there is no definitive answer as to what Romani identity involves.
Working exclusively in the context of the UK, Mayall analyzes various legislative acts and other documents in order to demonstrate the difficulties involved
when defining the Roma as an ethnicity. In fact, the author claims that the very
idea that the Roma are an ethnic group has been continuously challenged in
England. In those cases activists have had to refer precisely to the transnational
identity of the Roma in order to establish the groups ethnic identity as different to that of the British. One also has to keep into account the fact that
international Romani congresses have been held on a more or less regular basis
in the past thirty years, which has resulted in the creation of the International
Romani Union, a transnational organization that was granted special consultative status at the United Nations in 1993.
On the other hand, authors such as anthropologist Peter Vermeersch focus
on specific local issues when discussing ethnic identity. In an article on Romani activism in Central Europe, Vermeersch (2005) claims that working in
national or even more localized contexts is essential if the Romas problems are
to be solved. Yet the author admits that even in those specific contexts, addressing the problems of the Roma as an ethnicity can be counterproductive and
even damaging, since equating social problems with Romani ethnicity easily
leads to negative stereotyping.
Tony Gatlif s transnational Gypsy
If the question of whether or not there is a transnational Romani identity has
not yet been resolved by sociologists and anthropologists, where does that lead
us in terms of representing that identity in film, especially considering that
the two main issues around which debates usually revolve are those of realism
and authenticity? Tony Gatlif and Emir Kusturica provide two different takes
on the subject. The former portrays the Roma as indeed a transnational group
who share, regardless of the country in which they reside, common origins, a
passion for music, and mistreatment by the mainstream population. As early
as 1993, Gatlif offered (in his widely acclaimed documentary-like film Latcho
Drom) precisely that type of representation. The film features a succession of
musical numbers, each associated with a different country. The performances
are arranged in chronological order, following the historical migration of the
Roma from India to Spain via Egypt, Romania, Slovakia, and France, among
144
nikolina dobreva
other countries. The westward movement of the Gypsies in the film results not
only in the introduction of new variations to their musical style, but also in
increased oppression. The further west the Gypsies go, the more barbed wires,
closed doors, and songs of lament appear on screen.
While this representation is commendable for its exposure of the Romas
suffering, it is also limiting in two distinct ways. First of all, it reiterates the
stereotype of the dancing Gypsy. The Romas lives are portrayed as revolving
around music alone. While this is a positive stereotype, it also imposes certain
limits to the understanding and acceptance of the Roma by the mainstream
society. If all Roma have a natural talent for music, and if they all choose music
as their profession, then they can readily be marginalized as performers only,
and denied access to other jobs and lifestyles. In fact, this type of perception
lies at the core of an argument that I have often heard from city-authority representatives in Sofia, Bulgaria. When asked about housing for the Roma, they
complain about the ethnic groups inability to lead a normal life, and insist that
they are good only for singing and dancing.
The other way in which Gatlif s representation is limiting is that it is constructed around the idea that the Roma are nomads. Apart from the fact that
nomadic Roma are nowadays quite rare, this type of representation plays further into what anthropologist Paul Silverstein (2005) has observed about the
connection between mobility and savagery in European discourse. In his article Immigrant Racialization and the New Savage Slot, Silverstein analyzes a
sample of migration studies, as well as some state policies that are in place in
some European countries. The authors findings point to a particular racialization of mobility as savage, an image constructed around the presumably sedentary mainstream that represents the norm. Silversteins analysis of perceived
mobility is the most useful part of his article, since it applies precisely to the
ways in which the Roma are excluded. Seen as the eternal nomad savages, the
Roma are as a consequence perceived as enemies within, people who do not
uphold traditional lifestyles and values and are thus a threat to mainstream
society. Gatlif s representation, then, is only marginally empowering. For the
most part, and especially when dealing with Gypsies as nomads, it serves only
as a perpetuation of stereotypes associated with the Roma, and thus promotes
further their marginalization.
In the discussion of Latcho Drom in particular, specific film techniques have
to be taken into account. The film was released and promoted as a documentary. The fact that it does not feature any dialogue, characters, or complex plot
lines adds to the impression that the film-maker has tried to create, namely,
that the film represents the lifestyle of the Roma as it really is. This type of
representation, coupled with the directors Romani origin, lays claim to a construction of his Gypsy characters as authentic Roma. However, all it does is
145
simply perpetuate the stereotype of the nomad dancing Gypsy. Yet many critics
have hailed the film precisely as an authentic representation, and they eulogize
Gatlif for having discovered his peoples true identity. This type of critical
reception further perpetuates the stereotypes that scholars usually claim to
deconstruct.2
Ever since Latcho Drom, Gatlif has continued constructing a transnational
Romani identity. His later films focus on specific countries (Gadjo Dilo (1997)
is set in Romania, Swing (1999) in France, and Vengo (2000) in Spain), but
feature the same type of Gypsy characters, most of whom are accomplished
musicians who suffer at the hands of mainstream society. Swing tells the story
of a young French boy who wants to learn to play the guitar under the guidance of a Romani musician, yet the Romas skills, even those of a 12-year-old
girl, far exceed his own. More importantly, while in contact with the Roma, the
French protagonist learns about how they have always been oppressed by the
mainstream, a situation by no means exclusive to a specific country or to the
contemporary time period. There is nothing groundbreaking in this type of
representation, with the exception of a unique scene in the film that features
an elderly Holocaust survivor relating her experiences to the young French
boy. That character is played by a real Romani Holocaust survivor, and the
fact that Gatlif has decided to portray her in his film is commendable. Yet, the
director could not resist a certain amount of exoticism. As soon as the elderly
Romani woman finishes her story, she breaks into song, thus retaking her role
as a happy member of a marginalized but spiritually free ethnic group.
Even more explicitly so, the Romas representation in Gadjo Dilo is limited to music and social oppression. Yet another French protagonist, Stephane
(played by Romain Duris), joins the Roma, this time in a remote Romanian village, in his quest for a Gypsy singer that his now deceased father admired. The
Romanian Gypsy characters are accomplished, or rather, professional musicians: they earn their living by performing at local venues. While it becomes
immediately obvious that the Gypsies and the rest of the Romanians do not get
along well, it is in a dramatic scene that the extent of the mainstreams hatred
of and cruelty toward the Roma is shown in full. In this scene a young Gypsy
man, Adriani, accidentally kills one of the villagers who has insulted him, and
as a consequence is chased by a group of Romanian peasants who scorch the
Gypsy settlement. Adriani himself is burnt alive after he hides inside a barn.
This scene is very vivid and, with the employment of a handheld camera, grainy film, and a carefully orchestrated crowd of extras, is specifically
2. David Mayalls book offers in-depth analyses of other instances in which critics prefer to reiterate stereotypes about the Roma instead of conducting independent research. In fact, the author
claims that when the Roma are studied, most of the criticism consists precisely of a reiteration of
earlier and usually imprecise representations.
146
nikolina dobreva
constructed to appear as a documentary. In fact, Gatlif claims that even shooting the scene appeared so realistic that the local Roma hired to participate in
the film were terribly disturbed by it and wanted to start a real fight with the
other Romanians. Considering that the scene is relatively realistically represented, and is probably authentic (since instances of burnt Romani settlements
have been reported in Romania, and since the scene was shot on location, with
local real Roma), the next question we would have to ask pertains to the purposes of that representation.
Kusturicas Gypsies in the Yugoslav context
Before addressing that question, however, Kusturicas Romani representations
need to be examined. Unlike Tony Gatlif, Kusturica is not of Romani origin,
and thus he cannot claim the role of a native informant. Yet, his two Gypsy
films are no less authentic than those of Gatlif since they both feature nonprofessional Romani actors, are shot on location and in the Romani language,
and, in the case of Time of the Gypsies (original title Dom za veanje, 1988), are
even based on real events. Another aspect of Roma representation in Kusturicas films that needs to be considered is the directors drawing on a national
(that of Yugoslavia) cinema tradition that has produced a number of powerful
films featuring Gypsy characters, including Aleksandar Petrovis 1967 classic
I Even Met Happy Gypsies, and Goran Paskaljevis 1987 film Guardian Angel,
which tackles the same painful topic (trafficking Gypsy children) as Kusturicas
Time of the Gypsies. In addition, when analyzing in particular Kusturicas 1998
feature Black Cat, White Cat (Crna maka, beli maor), one needs to bear in
mind also the apolitical plot and the comic tone of the film, a direct result of
the directors reputation being damaged after the controversy surrounding his
previous film, Underground (see Iordanova 1999).
Both Time of the Gypsies and Black Cat, White Cat construct Romani identity in a way that differs substantially from that of Gatlif s films. Kusturicas
films are very place-specific, and deal exclusively with Serbian Roma. There is
no mention in either film of an Indian fatherland or of experience shared with
Roma from outside Yugoslavia, or, for that matter, from outside the specific
family featured in the film. In fact, in both films it is not mainstream populations but Gypsy criminals who exploit and oppress other Gypsies. While the
role of the mainstream society is acknowledged as the cause for the Gypsies
suffering in an abstract way (the characters are abandoned by the mainstream;
they remain marginalized, poor, unemployed, and uneducated), it is not made
prominent in terms of direct violence or oppression (as is the case in Gatlif s
films). Kusturicas Gypsies rarely interact with mainstream society, and if they
do, it is to do business (often illegal) with them. Thus the mainstream is por-
147
trayed almost as a separate entity that does not exist within the same space as
the Roma. This is in fact the defining feature of Kusturicas Gypsy films. While
they represent the Roma as normal human beings with dreams and flaws like
any other person in the world, they are still as limiting as Gatlif s films but
for precisely the opposite reasons. While Gatlif insists on positive stereotyping
and underscores the oppression of mainstream society, Kusturica shows the
Roma as multi-faceted persons who, however, are completely detached from
the mainstream. Thus the responsibility of the mainstream is toned down. The
Gypsies in the film appear as victims to their own flawed character, and not to
the social conditions in which they are forced to live.3
Kusturicas representation of the Roma is not as romantic as the one that
Gatlif constructs. In his films there are no carefree musicians who share a bond
with other Roma on a transnational scale, and whose only problem is the lack
of understanding that causes the mainstream to erupt in violence against them.
However, one could claim that the Serbo-Bosnian directors representation of
the Roma falls into negative stereotyping since most of his characters are, while
sympathetic, still criminals. In addition, Kusturica is prone to romanticism but
of a different type. The director claims that his work has been substantially
influenced by Latin American magic realism (see Iordanova 2002), and indeed,
all his films feature dream sequences and other magic realist elements. The
most famous scene in Time of the Gypsies is a celebration of St. Georges Day
that takes place by a river. The celebration, reminiscent of Hinduist rituals on
the Ganges River, is represented through lavish visuals made even more appealing by a beautiful non-diegetic performance of the song Erdelezi. Interestingly, the whole scene takes place in the main characters (Perhan) dream, and
it represents his love for a Gypsy girl in its sublime purity. This is precisely the
type of romanticism that Kusturica uses in his films. Through dream sequences and other magic realist elements his characters are able to transcend their
immediate reality and achieve a higher degree of understanding or spiritual
enlightenment. Thus the Roma become creatures of a higher order who have
the spirituality of noble savages, but who are forever isolated in their own little
world.
When discussing ethnic identity and its representations, issues of realism
and authenticity are always foregrounded. To the extent to which one can
assert that there is a specific Romani identity, either on a national or transnational level, both Kusturica and Gatlif offer an authentic representation of the
Roma in their films, considering that they both employ Romani actors, music,
authentic settings, etc. Realism, on the other hand, is a culturally- and time3. In this respect Kusturica diverges from the Yugoslav tradition, which is very critical of social
injustice, and instead moves toward a more Western representation of the carefree but isolated
from the mainstream Gypsy.
148
nikolina dobreva
specific convention, and is difficult to tackle within the limited space and scope
of this paper. Instead, I will briefly examine the dilemma of ethnic representation, and then I will attempt to position Kusturicas and Gatlif s works within a
larger debate of Romani and European identity.
Seeing oneself, portraying the Other: Kusturica, Gatlif, and the Roma in
Europe
The main problem encountered when representing a specific ethnic group is
arguably the danger of falling into stereotypes. No matter whether the Roma
are represented as musicians, criminals, or simply outcasts, they are eternally
marked as different. Yet, this is precisely where the dilemma of representation
is situatedon the one hand, there is the quest for representing the ethnic
group without reverting to generalizations (hence the debates around authenticity and realism), and on the other hand such a representation becomes
impossible. Many Romani activists, for example, disliked strongly Gatlif s film
Gadjo Dilo because they thought it followed in the line of typical Romani representations, featuring colorful costumes, music, marginality, and even some
criminal behavior.4 The activists urged instead for representations that would
involve Roma in a different social positionlawyers, educators, etc.who
are not marginalized and who have nothing to do with music or local color.
However, if such representations were to be constructed, then what markers
can be used to distinguish the Roma from other ethnicities? Would the Roma
simply become white? This line of thought potentially opens a larger-thanlife debate about identity, ethnicity, and representation, but, while I believe
that there is no solution to the problem at this point in time, I think it needs
to be considered if one is to critique not only Romani but any type of ethnic
representation.
In the case of Gatlif and Kusturica in particular, I would suggest an analysis
of their Roma representations in the context of Europe, and with reference
to each directors personal views and ethnic background. I think that specific conclusions can be drawn when the discussion is focused particularly on
the relationship between Core Europe and New Europe, and the role of the
Roma as a bargaining chip in this exchange.
In this context I find particularly useful Balibars (2004) book We, the People
of Europe. The most important concept that Balibar develops in this text is that
of European apartheid or a new type of discrimination that has arisen in the
EU, which marginalizes people on the basis of their national origin. According to Balibar, this is a discrimination process in which nationals of the EU
4. See the debate around Gatlif s film in Rutherford (1999).
149
150
nikolina dobreva
way until Adriani kills a Romanian, the local people are inevitably represented
as suspicious of strangers, even more suspicious of local Gypsies, and, most
importantly, as visually indistinguishable from one another. All the Romanian
characters wear the same grey coats and winter hats, eye with suspicion anyone who walks into their bar, and are easily provoked. Unlike Stephane who
transforms from an observer on a personal mission into a full-blown Gypsy,
the Romanians behavior changes from amused indifference towards the Gypsies to outright hatred. Interestingly, this change happens much faster than
Stephanes gradual transformation, as if the seeds for it were always there, the
hatred just needing a little spark in order to erupt at full scale. Thus, while the
Frenchman is very understanding and willing to change his ways in order to
accommodate an unfamiliar culture, the Romanians remain not only intransigent, but also physically threatening to the Gypsies survival.
This point of view is elaborated on by the director himself, who, in an interview with Franoise Puaux (1999), as well as in other interviews (Le Monde
Selon Tony Gtalif , 2001), openly insists that the Roma are treated better in
France than anywhere else in the world, and worse in Eastern Europe than
anywhere else in the world. Not only is this statement debatable, it also shows
the position from which Gatlif addresses his subject matter. The director adds
a new separate layer of Orientalism to the already Orientalized Gypsies.
While Kusturica makes no such claims, critics have often observed (e.g.
Iordanova 2001) that when representing the Roma, film-makers from the Balkans actually construct a projection of their own identities onto their characters.
Mainstream society (to which these directors belong) in the Balkan countries
sees the Roma as fun-loving but underappreciated people, just as it sees itself
in relation to the rest of Europeabandoned by it and suffering in poverty, but
in fact worthy of attention because of a unique national character and a free
spirit.
In Black Cat, White Cat all that the Romani characters want is enough money
to live comfortably. They all have their dreams: young Zare wants to marry the
girl next door and travel on one of the cruise boats on the Danube; his father
wants a good life as a rich man, etc. While all of these characters get involved
in silly swindles and even serious criminal activities, they are still very lovable, especially since their lifestyle reflects in full their presumably free spirits.
An example of this type of representation is Zares grandfather, Zarije, who
is sick in hospital until his grandson arrives with an orchestra. Hearing the
music, Zarije suddenly jumps out of his hospital bed, and dances away happily,
completely cured. As this scene shows, given some money and the freedom to
express themselves through music, Kusturicas Gypsies can be happy. Yet they
remain misunderstood by and isolated from the mainstream, with whom they
communicate only in extreme circumstances.
151
152
nikolina dobreva
Lastly, the importance of Kusturica and Gatlif s work on local, national, and
transnational levels needs to be underscored. Ive often encountered the statement many films have been made about the Gypsies, but I strongly disagree
with it. The Roma have indeed been featured in numerous films, but exclusively
as minor characters or in cameo roles. Thus, when a director makes a film
about the Roma (especially a director of Kusturicas or Gatlif s status), even if
it is just an irreverent comedy, he or she is likely to cause a large-scale debate
about Romani representation and identity. Moreover, because of the preconceptions of the film-makers, such films are likely to reiterate already existing
stereotypes, and as a result aggravate the Romas status by enclosing them into
pre-set limited social roles (musicians, criminals, victims). New directions in
Roma representations are not impossible. Yet in order to create them, one has
carefully to study and deconstruct the existing representations, especially considering the fact that the Roma are now turning into a bargaining chip within a
new EastWest European dichotomy.
References
Balibar, Etienne. 2004. We, the people of Europe? Reflections on transnational citizenship. Trans. James Swenson. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press.
Gatlif, Tony. 1993. Latcho drom. 1996. New Yorker Video. 103 min.
1997. Gadjo dilo [The crazy stranger]. 2005. New Yorker Video. 97 min.
1999. Swing. 2002. Mongrel Media. 90 min.
2000. Vengo. 2003. Home Vision Entertainment, 2003. 89 min.
Iordanova, Dina. 1999. Kusturicas Underground (1995): Historical allegory or propaganda?. Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television (HJFRT) 19(1): 6986.
2001. Cinema of flames. London: British Film Institute.
2002. Emir Kusturica. London: British Film Institute.
Kusturica, Emir. 1998. Crna maka, beli maor [Black cat, white cat]. 2004. Madman
Entertainment. 135 min.
1989. Dom za veanje [Time of the Gypsies]. 1990. Columbia TriStar Home Video.
136 min.
Lutz, Helma. 1997. The limits of European-ness. Feminist Review 57: 93111.
Malvinni, David. 2004. The Gypsy caravan: From real Roma to imaginary Gypsies in
Western music and film. New York: Routledge.
Mayall, David. 2004. Gypsy identities, 15002000: From Egipcyans and Moon-men to
the ethnic Romany. London and New York: Routledge.
Le monde selon Tony Gatlif. Online. 21 Oct. 2001. http://www.routard.com/mag_
invite.asp?id_inv=85.
Paskaljevi, Goran. 1987. Andjeo uvar [Guardian angel]. TRZ Singidunum, Jugoart,
and Morava film. 90 min.
Petrovi, Aleksandar. 1968. Skupljai perja [I even met happy Gypsies]. Avala Films.
94min.
153
Puaux, Franoise. 1999. Tony Gatlif: Jamais les Gitans ne peuvent sintgrer, cest la
vraie marginalit . . .. In Puaux, Franoise, ed. La marginalit lcran. Condsur-Noireau, France: Corlet. 11519.
Rutherford, Eric. 1999. Tony Gatlif s film Gadjo Dilo furthers the Roma cause. Roma
Rights 3: 2334.
Silvertstein, Paul. 2005. Immigrant racialization and the new savage slot. Annual
Review of Anthropology 34: 36384.
Vermeersch, Peter. 2005. Marginality, advocacy, and the ambiguities of multiculturalism: Notes on Romani activism in Central Europe. Identities. 12(4): 45178.