Wed. May 15th, 2024

Arrival

Jane Campion was a fellow native of renowned New Zealand novelist Janet Frame; she has a unique creative voice. After translating Frame’s autobiography entitled An Angel at My Table, Campion began her fourth film entitled The Piano. It is an exploratory examination of mental illness. Set in booming New Zealand in the Victorian era, the film provides another outlet for Campion’s overarching theme surrounding the threat of madness. However, they also praised the transgressive spirit of women’s rebellion against restrictive societal expectations aimed at keeping women in their positions. In doing it, Campion addresses and subverts the dark and gothic sensibilities that are ingrained in New Zealand culture. The film offers a vision of liberation while being a sharp critique of the colonial project and highlighting its inherent weaknesses and attendant horrors.

When Ada McGrath arrives on the windswept South Island, she is confronted with a worldview dominated by inflexible pragmatism. Ada and her young, illegitimate daughter, Flora, are carried ashore on sailors’ backs through the turbulent waves. Initially, Ada was happy with her forced union with Alisdair Stewart. However, she soon discovered that her husband’s understanding of a quiet wife was not in line with his real needs. Disappointed and a little disappointed, Stewart called her “stunted.” Worse still, the woman’s silence had a defiant power that made him feel deeply uncomfortable rather than being a sign of meek submission. He ponders the possibility that she may be “brain affected” and expresses unease about her departure from the mental picture of a woman.

Silenced since childhood, Ada challenges preconceived ideas about disability. Rather than being a curse, her silence becomes a barrier that keeps her away from “banal social rituals” that Flora believes are meaningless. With such skills, Campion makes the audience feel like a confidant and allows them to hear Ada’s rich “voice of the mind.” The journey is in stark contrast to Stewart’s pursuit of external goals. As a miniature version of the British colonial enterprise, Stewart imitated the “slash-and-burn” nation-building strategy of using force to emulate European states. However, Ada was an interior pioneer. It reflects the spirit of fellow New Zealand literary icon Frame who once said that writing was like traveling to the “City of Mirrors” where people “live under the light of imagination.”

Ada uses music to communicate her ideas and not words. Her relationship with John Broadwood’s piano turned into a lifeline and physical conduit to her inner world. When Stewart decides that a piano is not necessary for their new life and sees it as “dead wood,” the attachment is violently severed. The spacing is similar to an amputation surgery. A rival of Stewart, George Baines, joins the story. Baines is a former whaler. He represents a different perspective on colonialism. His proficiency in Indigenous languages and Māori facial tattoos demonstrate his desire to interact with the culture rather than eradicate it. Although not without shortcomings, Baines at least understands the importance of cross-cultural interaction. His Illiteracy is noteworthy because it highlights the film’s critique of oppressive power structures that use writing and language as instruments of control.

Due to his arrogance and colonial mentality, Stewart viewed his family and territory as merely an extension of himself. Instead, Baines aims to undermine the rationale behind kingship. He had a bad start to their transactional relationship when he traded land for a piano and then used the return of each key to barter for sexual services. As Baines becomes more sensitive to Ada’s music, a true bond develops. Increasing disgust towards his exploitative behavior coincided with the awakening. Campion creates a powerful portrait of resilience and subversion of power dynamics through the character of Ada. Ada finds her voice in a silent musical language in a world where spoken language is king; she embarks on a journey of self-discovery and emotional connection.

Forbidden Desires

Rather than being met with disgust, Ada’s secret dealings turn into a source of internal conflict. She can break free from her husband’s control and overcome the strict limitations of Victorian society thanks to the rebellious nature of the forbidden agreement. The examination of the sensual and dangerous is a recurring theme in Campion’s films. His films such as The Power of the Dog, In the Cut, Bright Star, Sweetie, The Portrait of a Lady, and others are characterized by unsettling ambiguity. However, they depict a world where predation is more widespread than killing. Tensions are created by uncertain power dynamics; the blurred boundaries between desire and fear deliberately erase the distinction between victim and perpetrator.

The Piano takes a more subtle approach to racial tensions than it examines gender politics. Relegated to the margins of the story, the Māori characters provide a powerful critique of the spiritual emptiness that characterized colonial thinking and how it was unable to encourage peaceful coexistence with nature. Stewart asked dismissively, “What do they want the land for?” referring to the Māori people’s refusal to give up their land. They don’t re-burn it, process it, or do anything else. The question “How do they know it’s theirs?” demonstrates the settlers’ lack of fundamental connection to the land. Besides the desire to gather resources, their primary driving force in navigating difficult terrain is the psychological need to bring order to their chaotic inner landscape. Stewart’s action of attaching his initials to the ground further emphasizes the point.

The film’s cold, bluish gloom dominates the visual scheme. The feeling of seclusion is enhanced by expansive aerial views that highlight the unfathomable vastness of the forest. The eerie aesthetic draws us into the emotional turmoil of the characters and immerses us in the heart of the New Zealand Gothic story. Gaining momentum in the 1990s, the emerging postcolonial movement presented the landscape as dangerous and haunted evoking feelings of awe and fear. The landscape is described as always damp, shrouded in darkness, and as if untouched by time. Rural ideas surrounding what was called “God’s Own Country” were shattered. Instead, it’s a cinematic depiction akin to a beautiful crime scene. During that time, Māori culture was revived and biculturalism became increasingly accepted. The brutal legacy of colonialism and Pakeha identity has inevitably come under further scrutiny. The settlers’ descendants face a difficult task when trying to erase the shame of their ancestors. They must find a way to forge a new identity in a land that has its name and a rich, indigenous culture that they have actively tried to suppress and that they still struggle to understand.

The persistent presence of mud in The Piano is a powerful metaphor for the unresolvable conflict between the goals of the colonial project and the harsh realities of the New Zealand landscape. Ada’s skirt is thickly coated with mud hinders her movement and serves as a reminder of the physical constraints she experiences in the wild terrain. It is far from the performative nature of colonial activity. One of the scenes that stands out the most is when Ada tries to take a photo of herself and her husband against a fake backdrop of a European landscape. The staged portrait becomes a cosmic satire as a result of the heavy rain that follows. This feeling of fundamental dissonance with the land is consistent with ideas put forward in Vincent Ward’s Vigil. In the film, a young girl struggles to find purpose in life after her father dies. It is also set in a similarly remote area of New Zealand. The family farm is repeatedly hit by wind and rain in the film. We are at the edge of the habitable world as grandfather’s panicked cry, “We’re heading for the South Pole!” emphasize.

Outsider Status

Ada’s outsider status is further emphasized by Campion’s comparison of herself to the rituals of accepted colonial beliefs. The introduction of a missionary, Morag, represents the encouragement of Christianity towards the native population. Morag’s statements repeated by her docile friend, Nessie, are a recitation of colonial ideology that does not correspond to the uncomfortable reality of their environment. Ada’s father nicknamed her strong will a “dark talent.” The idea of innate powers is consistent with the history of persecution of women thought to have magical abilities. The contrast between Ada’s expressions and the expected role of a colonial wife is seen in Morag’s disapproval of Ada’s unconventional piano playing. The sight of Māori women sewing costumes for colonial pantomimes and being made to sing the British national anthem at the missions is another example of how colonial culture was imposed. The act represents a microcosm of the British Empire’s wider policy of cultural slavery.

Also blatantly, The Piano ignores the Māori myths that typically explain the origins of the New Zealand landscape. We may read the silence as an action aimed at highlighting the stories of oppressed indigenous peoples in the face of colonial domination. However, the history of bloody conquest on which New Zealand is based is a recurring theme in the film. A performance of the French folk tale Bluebeard (which dates back to the 17th century) descends into chaos. The operatic work plays as a powerful allegory with Bluebeard’s noble wife represented by a display of blood-stained artificial heads. Māori characters are angered by the imagery and reflect their suppressed anger at the brutality of white people. It also foreshadows the horrific domestic violence that Ada will experience. She considers the horror that underlies the drama to be merely a theatrical performance to be a frightening reality.

National Ownership Debate

Stewart’s brutal act of cutting off Ada’s finger with an ax turns into a crucial scene as the story progresses. His descent reveals surprising truths and is evocative of the psychological turmoil depicted in German Expressionist art. Campion forces the audience to recognize that horrific acts often thought to have been committed by “others” (in such context, namely Māori people) are always associated with the bloody conquest that was at the heart of colonial power. The artistic qualities of The Piano also won worldwide acclaim and catapulted the New Zealand film onto the international stage. Along with the film’s Academy Award win, Campion’s historic achievement of becoming the first female Palme d’Or winner at Cannes helped shape a new film identity for her home country. However, an opposing viewpoint emerged from New Zealand. According to Neill’s analysis, cinema in the country is characterized by a sense of “restlessness” and underscores a persistent unease with its colonial past.

The national ownership debate was sparked by Campion’s success. Her artistic vision is claimed by both Australia and New Zealand and truly reflects her background having lived and worked in two different countries. The postcolonial experience influenced her artistic sensibilities as evidenced by the typically Gothic depictions of absurdity and violence in her films. Although Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights evokes turbulent passions, Campion’s approach has a decidedly “antipodean” quality. The self-conscious irony results from the absurdity of imposing long-standing customs and folklore on an unfamiliar environment. The film makes it clear how pointless it is to look to imported stories to give us a framework for understanding a place with all its mysteries. The whimsical detail of snow-covered Christmas cards being exchanged under the hot summer sun adds additional emphasis to the idea. Snow is a powerful symbol of the distance that exists between imposed cultural norms and reality in the Southern Hemisphere.

Even though Ada controls her narrative, she is caught between conclusions. After being permitted to sail with Baines, she made a bold statement by asking that her beloved piano be thrown into the sea. It reveals her determination to live. Ultimately, she chose life over a wet grave. She defied fate once and for all when she managed to free herself from the ropes binding her to the instrument. It’s refreshing to see a subversion of the anticipated tragic ending that features a transgressive woman who rejects the traditional story of adultery and revenge. Regardless of Ada’s and Baines’s success in finding domestic satisfaction, the film ends with a lingering feeling of unease. Her vision of the seabed hints at a desire for more extreme freedom. The resolution emphasizes Ada’s steadfast spirit. Her new, metallic fingertips in the final image represent her resilience while also serving as a reminder of her injury. The final act of rebellion can be seen in Campion’s choice to allow Ada to continue to have a loving relationship and an independent mind with unfulfilled desires. Ada opts for a quieter but highly antipodean form of nonconformity rather than the grandiose and operatic flow of the gothic narrative.

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