The Colonialist and Male Gazes in Beau Travail (Claire Denis, 1999)... or lack thereof?
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1N8lR4LXPzY2ia1nkiIEMtqGXaWD4P8a7/view?usp=drive_link
Beau Travail (Claire Denis, 1999), is a French film loosely based on the unfinished 1888 novella Billy Budd by Herman Melville. The film revolves around French Foreign Legionnaires stationed in Djibouti, East Africa under the command of Sergeant Galoup. Subverting traditional forms of linear storytelling, the story is told from the perspective of Galoup from his home in Marseilles some time in the future as he reflects on his life in Djibouti. After being established in 1831, the Foreign Legion shortly became a force for French colonial expansion, specifically in North Africa. Therefore by setting Beau Travail in contemporary Djibouti, just 20 years after it gained its independence in 1977, Denis is actively setting her narrative against a backdrop of racism and colonialism.Â
In their 2009 essay, titled Colonialism, Racism, and Representation: an Introduction, Robert Stam and Louise Spence discuss how racist and colonialist representations have permeated film. Stam and Spence define âcolonialismâ as the measures by which the European powers (including the United States) acquired economic, military, cultural, and political dominance in much of Asia, Africa, and Latin America. From this definition comes an understanding of the âThird Worldâ as the âcolonised, neocolonised or decolonised nations of the world whose economic and political structures have been shaped and deformed within the colonial processâ (753). Colonialist representation was, of course, not new as of the invention of cinema but is conversely ârooted in a vast colonial intertext, a widely disseminated set of discursive practicesâ (754). Depicting the relationship between the Third World and the First World on film presents complex issues as the medium of film is voyeuristic by nature: lending it to becoming a tool used to further longstanding practices of oppression and âotheringâ. Stam and Spence state that âEurope constructed its self-image on the backs of its equally constructed Otherâthe âsavageâ, the âcannibalâ âmuch as phallocentrism sees its self-flattering image in the mirror of woman defined as âlackââ (754). This logic relates ideas of the colonialist gaze to the idea of the male gaze as understood by Laura Mulvey in her 1975 essay titled âVisual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.â Mulvey posits that the voyeurism of cinema stems from the three gazes that it demands be enacted. The first gaze is the cameraâs view which is inherently male (assuming a male cinematographer and/or director); the second gaze is the active surveillance of men within the film that reduce women to the passive objects of their look; and the third gaze is the onlooking of the male viewer that either imitates or takes the same position as the first two gazes. The gaze of the Djiboutian women in Beau Travail explores colonialistic representation in cinema, and the male gaze, via simultaneously subverting the First Worldâs voyeuristic gaze that renders the Third World objects to be studied, and the active male gaze that renders women passive objects.Â
Beau Travail notably lacks fully fleshed out female characters; the only woman the audience is even somewhat introduced to lacks character traits other than being Galoupâs girlfriend. That being said, the first people seen on screen during the opening sequence are, in fact, Djiboutian women dancing in a club. The scene is shot by focusing on the womensâ faces, not their bodies, and they each glance into the camera establishing them as holding the power to look. Only once the women have been established does Denis introduce the viewer to the Legionnaires via the women allowing the Legionnaires to dance with them as equals (00:01:44). This opening sequence introduces the viewers to intersectional ideas of race, colonialism, and gender and localizes the Legionnaires as foreigners within the landscape of Djibouti.
The film then tosses the viewer into the throws of the intense military training and rituals that the Legionnaires perform. At one moment, the Legionnaires are deep in combat training when the camera cuts to show puzzled Djiboutian women looking on. It is assumed that they are looking at the Legionnaires until the camera cuts again to show their true focus: a man repairing telephone wires (00:15:40). This is an interesting moment that begins by subverting the expectations of gaze and who has the power to look versus who is confined to the position of being looked at: only to ask us to discard of our preconceived notions a second time and accept that the Legionnaires are actually not the center of attention. This concept of looking versus being looked at arises again with another sequence of shots showing the Legionnaires setting up their camp while puzzled children look on (00:47:28). The children are poised and steady, they are not threatened by the Legionnaires, but they are not welcoming of them either. To them, the Legionnaires are a curiosity: they exist as objects to be marveled at and observed but not interacted with.
These ideas of looking versus being looked at emerge again with a sequence of exchanged stares when a van of Djiboutians drives by as the Legionnaires are digging (01:04:00). The Legionnaires look at the Djiboutians and the Djiboutians (prominently a woman and child) look at the Legionnaires in a standoff that only ends when the Legionnaires are reminded to get back to work. It could be argued instead that since the Legionnaires stop to stare at the Djiboutians, their gaze is not a subversion of the objectifying colonial gaze but simply feeds into this trope. This argument might be valid if the two groups were on even playing field but since the Djiboutians watch the Legionnaires relatively comfortably from their van while the Legionnaires do manual labor in the sun, this moment represents a reversal of the supervising colonizer and the working colonized. This series of shots that utilize gaze to suggest power structure cement the Legionnaires as foreigners and remind the viewer of the absurdity of the Legionnaires taking themselves and their station in Djibouti so seriously considering that Djibouti is no longer a French colony.
While reversing themes observed by Stam and Spence of the First Worldâs voyeuristic gaze that reduces the people of the Third World to objects of spectacle; Denis gives women control of the gaze which additionally subverts Mulveyâs idea of the trifold cinematic âmale gaze.â Denis, working with cinematographer Agnès Godard, gives the camera an inherently female gaze in place of the male gaze that Mulvey maintains. This female gaze is apparent in the elegance and softness with which the harsh landscape and grueling physical and mental tasks that the men have to perform are filmed. Denis and Godard worked with French dancer and choreographer Bernardo Montet who choreographed the many dancelike scenes of the Legionnaires. Denis also reimagines the internarrative male gaze by placing men as both the active surveyors of one another and passive objects of their own male gazes. For example, Galoupâs Commandant, Bruno Forestier, is always watching Galoup, and Galoup is always watching his soldiers, who are in turn watching each other and Galoup. Unable to relate to either the gaze of the camera or of the men within the narrative, the third male gaze of the viewer that Mulvey posits is therefore deconstructed.Â
The Djiboutian women in Beau Travail play a crucial and often overlooked role in drawing attention to colonialist and gendered power dynamics and representations. Itâs the Djiboutian women after all who first introduce the viewer to the world by commanding the cameraâs attention with their direct gazes. They are also the ones surveying the men and furthermore making money off of them by selling them goods. Though the portrayals of Djiboutian women are limited (likely because they are simply not the focus of the film), their presence is essential in opening up discourse regarding colonialism and gender.



















