It’s hard to know exactly how to talk about a film like Fig Trees. Equal parts documentary, musical and artistic experiment, director John Greyson’s latest project examining the fight for an increased availability and affordability of AIDS treatment around the world will, no doubt, prove intimidating for the casual viewer.
Making prominent use of split-screen, layering and scrolling text, the film’s visual style alone is often enough to overwhelm the senses. Add to this the almost constant audio accompaniment of operatic voices either repeating, re-interpreting, or responding to the action on screen, and one begins to realize that Fig Trees isn’t a film that can simply be watched, but one that must be critically engaged with.
It took me nearly 30 minutes to feel comfortable with the film’s radical form. Even then, it was more of a resignation that it would be impossible to gather all the information presented on screen in a first viewing—or a 10th viewing for that matter. The complex formal style requires the audience’s selective attention, meaning each viewer’s experience of the film will be completely unique and personal.
Mirroring the complexities of the film’s form, an objective reading of the content of Fig Trees is just as elusive. Ostensibly, the film documents the life and work of two AIDS activists, Zackie Achmat and Tim McCaskell, pushing for the wider availability of life-prolonging medication. But, the project isn’t that simple.
Tied up in this premise are the bizarre stories of a young St. Martin, decked out in an albino squirrel costume, and the staging of an opera about Zackie and Tim, as directed by a time-travelling Gertrude Stein. The film blends and blurs the two worlds until they share the same place upon the screen. Clearly, Fig Trees isn’t the kind of social activist film viewers have become accumstom to seeing.
Greyson is very careful to avoid pathos in his film. Noticeably absent are the shots of hollow-cheeked inpatients or the wretched living conditions in the poorest parts of Africa.
The interviews with both Zackie and Tim are conducted with irable emotional restraint. Greyson seems more intent on fostering inspiration than pity. Shining through the anger and frustration expressed towards governmental bureaucracy and the greed of pharmaceutical companies is an unmistakable feeling of hope and pride. The film doesn’t seek to depress or inspire guilt, but aims to unite and uplift those tired of watching money and politics supersede the right to human life.
Greyson accomplishes this task by adopting a surprising playfulness in dealing with an otherwise sombre subject matter. Anyone familiar with the director’s previous work will recognize the same absurd sense of humour Greyson employed in the singing assholes scene from 1993’s Zero Patience.
Pop-cultural references are abound as Greyson delights in humourously adapting iconic films and songs to be used as the glue between the multiple narrative threads. Of particular note is the VH1-style countdown of the 100 best AIDS songs of all time, in which popular songs from artists like Bruce Springsteen and Michael Jackson are re-imagined with a healthy dose of camp. These clips aren’t only comical, but display the ion and heart driving the film forward. One gets a sense this isn’t a film made out of charity or pity, but out of the director’s own love of life and the pain of anyone be denied this same love.
Greyson pairs these pop-cultural parodies with a number of intellectual references to composers, saints and playwrights that could easily discourage viewers who are unfamiliar with these names and mythologies. I watched countless cultural allusions fly frustratingly over my head, but at a certain point it became clear that becoming preoccupied with trying to “get” every reference would be to miss the bigger picture. In fact, some of the more intellectual scenes are so beautifully constructed that at points, to simply look is to understand.
Fig Trees definitely isn’t a film for everyone. Despite exploring an issue that’s frighteningly real, the film is ambiguous to the point of impenetrability at times. Extremely non-didactic, the film refuses to spoon feed its audience. Instead of bombarding viewers with grim facts and figures, Fig Trees succeeds in capturing the eternal essence of hope and ion that still lives on in even the direst of human situations, and focuses that collective hope onto a contemporary issue of great importance.
Fig Trees plays this Sunday at 1 p.m. in Ellis auditorium as a part of the Reelout Queer Film and Video Festival. Director John Greyson will be in attendance.
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