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Film documents plight of Cambodian dancers
By ANN WHITCHER
Contributing Editor
Dance can be so much more than an art form, to be observed and admired for its aesthetic qualities alone. For Cambodian court dancers who survived an unspeakable evil, dance became the means to ensure an entire nation's cultural survival. This is the riveting theme of Janet Gardner's "Dancing Through Death: The Monkey, Magic and Madness of Cambodia," an award-winning film that drew an appreciative audience to a UB screening on Oct. 9 in the Center for the Arts.
“Dancing Through Death” documents the story of Cambodian court dancers who survived the “methodical cruelty” of the Khmer Rouge regime.
The film shows how exquisite physical movement became a way for many Cambodians to survive what the narrator describes as the "methodical cruelty" of the infamous Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge regime, the radical communist movement that ruled Cambodia from 1975-79. During this period, as many as 1.5 million Cambodians died and the country's professional and technical classes were virtually rubbed out. Ninety percent of the country's royal court dancers were executed or died of starvation or disease. It is their plight and the heritage of the surviving dancers that the film examines so forcefully.
In another appearance that day, Gardner and her frequent collaborator, UB alumnus and Vietnam native Pham Quoc Thai (B.S. '76), also screened "Precious Cargo," a documentary about the dramatic transport to America of 2,800 South Vietnamese children in 1975 and one small group's bittersweet return to Vietnam many years later.
In a brief introduction to "Dancing Through Death," Gardner, whose interest in Southeast Asia began as a reporter covering post-war Vietnam for major American newspapers, said she was familiar with "The Killing Fields," the harrowing 1984 film about New York Times reporter Sidney Schanberg and his attempt to locate Dith Pran, his translator and friend, in war-torn Cambodia. Later, Gardner would encounter a deeper reality when she visited Cambodian refugee camps on the Thai-Cambodia border and met anthropologist Toni Shapiro—now of Yale University's Cambodian Genocide Program—and her husband, Thavro Phim, a dancer who lost his father, brother and grandfather at the hands of the Khmer Rouge.
Indeed, Gardner learned that highly trained court dancers had been marked for death, simply because of their association with the royal palace. These were dancers who since childhood had performed centuries-old dances that frequently tell mystical stories of good and evil, tales often drawn from the Ramayana. The dancers wear colorful costumes as they portray bejeweled princes, princesses, giants and monkeys. A central theme of the film is that the efforts of surviving dancers and their supporters—both at the Royal University of Fine Arts in Phnom Penh and in U.S. communities of Cambodian settlers—gradually have rebuilt their precious identity as a people.
The film includes many scenes in which the Cambodian court dance is being studied and nourished in such communities as Lowell, Mass.—where some 20,000 Cambodian-Americans now reside—and in San Jose, Calif. Here, young people are seen exploring the classical form, aided by master dancers from Cambodia, who can offer their young American charges an intimate knowledge of the rituals, the meaning and the intricate physical movements that stretch back to the ancient empire of Angkor. Many of these master teachers have suffered grievous family losses, which they talk about with obvious difficulty before the camera.
Meanwhile, the Cambodian-American children are seen becoming more receptive to learning about Cambodian language and culture, as they, too, become entranced by the classical dances known to their parents. Central to this art is the monkey dance, based on themes drawn from the Ramayana and joyfully furthered by such masters as Phim, who performs the role of Hanuman, the magical white monkey. In the film, Phim travels to Cambodia, a country that still knows turmoil and corruption. There he is reunited with remaining family and teachers, and also visits a prison museum containing photographs of thousands of deceased compatriots, searching for clues to the fate of his father.
Even as these dancers grapple with loss, they continue to celebrate beauty, especially in passing on a legacy to a younger generation, both in Cambodia and in the United States. For example, young boys are seen playfully trying out the monkey's movements. At this point, they only can offer a pale imitation of their teacher's masterly technique. But the viewer can see what lies ahead for children who persevere. ("I want to be a monkey dancer," affirms one young boy, Andrew Mam.) Samnang Hor, for instance, is a 13-year-old monkey dancer from the Angkor Dance Troupe in Lowell, where Phim has been a guest performer. Samnang is committed to a career in classical dance, and now dances the monkey role with grace and distinction.
These scenes frequently are juxtaposed with contemporary scenes from the Royal University of Fine Arts, where the art form continues to blossom, thanks to the presence of master teachers and an enthusiastic corps of learners. Yit Sarin, about 75, is one of the oldest masters, but his deep love of the monkey dance is everywhere apparent. (It's also the most fun, he admits with a smile.) Also included is rare footage of the dancers in court settings before the terror began. Especially moving are period scenes in which would-be dancers in the refugee camps steadily work to perfect their dances, despite their lack of formal training and the fact that many have lost limbs to the horror.
That beauty could survive such pain is all the more striking given the extent of cultural destruction that was the goal of the Khmer Rouge. According to Gardner, the regime wanted to establish an agrarian, inward-looking nation, much in the way the Cultural Revolution had been organized and enforced in China. These attempts ranged from the horrific killing of innocents to the patently absurd: In addition to banning all forms of religious and artistic expression, eyeglasses also were forbidden. These were thought to convey an unhealthy intellectualism.
A discussion session that followed the film was punctuated by questions not only about political realities in past and present-day Cambodia, but also by the fine nuances of Cambodian court dance as practiced today. Many were curious about the origins, associations with Thai and Indian art forms and the typical duration of this unique art form, which has become, for so many, the pathway to survival.
The filmmakers frequently turned to Cambodian San Kim, a UB graduate student in the master's program in applied economics, who cheerfully clarified aspects of Cambodian life and culture for the audience.
Sponsoring the filmmakers' visit were the World Languages Institute, the International Artistic and Cultural Exchange Program of the Department of Theatre and Dance, the U.S.-Indochina Educational Foundation Inc., the Office of Alumni Relations, Graduate Student Association, Asian-American Studies Graduate Student Association and Educational Leadership and Policy Graduate Student Association.