Korkoro/Freedom (2009)

No Comments | Trackback | Permalink | March 3rd, 2010

The rather sensitive topic of the Romanian gypsies in Europe has long been a topic that has been pushed under the carpet – an issue far out of sight and one that is seemingly passed over or simply ignored in general. Sure, there was the Nazi holocaust…the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki…but gypsies? In an intriguing and absorbing story about the clash of distinctly different cultures and the meaning of ‘civilization’, French film director Tony Gatlif has stepped up to put forward a harrowing portrayal of the gypsy life during the turn of World War II in the racially and politically charged film, Korkoro.

It is without a doubt Gatlif’s heritage that has inspired him to produce such a film – he has after all already made more than ten movies focused on the Romanian Gypsy culture, and his resolve to underscore the reality of the gypsies together with his own descent has altogether empowered his filmmaking and motive for exposing the gypsy life and history. His determination to unveil the racial and social prejudice that occurred both in the past and today serves to emphasize the frightening reality Korkoro emanates on screen: it claims to be based on true events, which further highlights the extraordinary conflict the gypsies faced during the war, as well as the contradictions within the government and the people in society at the time. Korkoro really does seem to embody everything the gypsy culture stands for however, from the beat infused background music and the beautiful natural setting down to the actions of the characters and the tragic and often inevitable turn of events in the film.

In a memorable opening scene, barbed wire of a gypsy camp in France moves along to a poignant piano solo, and then cuts to the lively action and travelling of a gypsy clan in a leafy forest. Claude (Mathias La Liberté), an adorable young boy begins following the clan, and soon they take him under their wing and begin calling him Chorchoro (or pauper). They travel into France for the grape harvest, and it is then they realize there are new laws that forbid them to be nomadic.

However, they find some friends with Ms. Lundi (Marie-Josée Croze), the local schoolteacher, and Theodore (Marc Lavoine), the town mayor, in which both attempt to gently persuade the gypsies to assimilate with the rest of the town. This is seemingly made impossible by their way of life though, as is emphasized through their different culture, language and rituals.

Theodore adopts Claude when he realizes he is an orphan, and Miss Lundi tries to get the gypsy children to attend the school (where in a hilarious exchange, is asked to pay for the kids’ education by the adult gypsies). These attempts to bring the gypsies into normal civilization are in vain despite Miss Lundi and Theodore’s efforts, and soon the gypsy clan find themselves imprisoned in a cramped and barbaric gypsy camp.

Theodore signs over his house to them so they can be released, and so they are set “free”, for a while at least. Heritage or culture can never be erased however, and it is only inevitable that the gypsies’ stay in regular society is short lived before they attempt to escape into the wilderness, and back into their nomadic way of life.

Gatlif portrays the different sides of regular civilization and the gypsy culture extremely well in Korkoro, and it is his portrayal of both sides of the issue that significantly emphasizes the plight of the gypsies in that time. The racial prejudice is not only confronting and thought provoking, the treatment of the gypsies is often vicious, and altogether inhumane. The distinctions between the gypsy culture and regular society is also often made, effectively emphasizing how hard it is to persude someone to drop their heritage and start over entirely as a new being in modern society.

While the gypsies are often seen praying to their God and chanting and praying, their way of life infinitely sets them apart from the rest of society. In one scene, one of the gypsies is bitten by a horse, which results in them dressing the wound with cow dung and one egg. In another, a town official visits them where they pull out one sole wooden chair for him to sit on, and bring out one glass in which they pour him some water. The stark contrast between the official and the rest of the gypsies are evident in signifying just how different the two cultures are, and how hard it is to change the gypsies’ way of life when there is so much history and culture behind the people.

The background music makes up an important part in emphasizing the action and embedded culture of the gypsies, with everything beating in tune from the clack of the horses hooves to the patter of running feet, to the banging of pots and pans, to the squeaky movement of the wheels on the carts. The synchronization of the cacophony of their movements really brings together the gypsies and their relationship with the earth and nature, and really highlights their nomadic way of life. The grooves are so infectious in fact that you can almost imagine you’re there with them, tapping your feet along to Taloche’s impressive violin skills.

That said, Taloche (James Thiérrée) completely steals the show as a gypsy desperately attempting to cling on to his way of life and his origin. Every single scene he is in just emphasizes how much of the gypsy culture was ingrained in him, and his persistence at staying true to himself and his heritage is what really set him apart from the rest of his family.

Although there are various implications that comes with persuading the gypsies to ditch their way of life in favour of modern day technology and vocations, the distinct contrasts made in Korkoro resolutely highlight the pros and cons of modernity imposing on the gypsy culture. At times it seems almost impossible for there to ever be a true conciliation between modern society and the gypsies, for their culture is one that is incredibly hard to erase. In a dilemma similar to the plight of the Aboriginals in Australia, it is an issue which raises a series of questions concerning civility and culture, the contradictions of laws, and the meaning of freedom.

While there is certainly room for more character development in Korkoro, especially the relationship between Claude and Taloche, and Miss Lundi and Theodore, the film thoroughly achieves what it sets out to do: that is, to recreate the story of one gypsy family and their various encounters (good and bad) with modernity and war in France. The setting of the gypsy’s pursuits for freedom in a country entangled in war only suggests the trivilaity of it all, and ironically poses the question we have all asked for centuries: can’t we all just get along?

~ Jakki posted at 12:21 am

See Also...

• An Education (2009)
• Alice in Wonderland 3D (2010)
• Black Book/Zwartboek (2006)