Born into Brothels, movie review
Born into Brothels is a compelling documentary that follows a group of Indian children who were born in the Red Light District in Calcutta. Zana Auntie, a British photographer, moves into a brothel to learn about the lives of the women working/living there but quickly realizes numerous children also live in the brothel. Zana Auntie gives each child (about a dozen total) a camera and film and sends them off to take photographs. The children become enthralled with the fun and power in taking photos, and Zana creates a photography class to channel their energy. The class becomes more sophisticated as she teaches about technique, composition, and becoming and artist. The photos are surprisingly insightful and come with deft commentary by the kids.
If you plan to watch the movie, you may want to wait on reading the rest of this.
The children’s faces are the same as well. They convey honest, hard working children whose natural light still shines strongly from behind their eyes. This despite having seen parents and friends murdered; despite having to flee their home on foot; and despite the meager portions of food (often only a handful of white rice after school) on which they somehow survived. These kids were no less intelligent than any other children in the world. They were mature and strong and–with education–capable of anything.
One of the lessons learned from Sabu is that one can clear a path towards opportunity, but individuals choose to leave that path. It is even more heart breaking when parents choices limit their children’s’ options–live removing them from the once-in-a-lifetime opportunities Zana Auntie arranged for the kids to study in boarding schools.
No matter what you think is best, or what may actually be best, you are not the parent. One must let the family make a decision. I admire how Zana did the best she could for her photography kids but knew her the limits of her role. I guess in America, those children would be taken from the parents, put into foster care, and remained in school. While I can’t imagine a good reason why those children should return to the brothel, it’s tricky coming into another culture and bringing Western ideas of right and wrong.
At Sabu, the goal was to at least give the students and families a choice. With regard to corporeal punishment, I was always careful not to tell parents how to discipline their kids at home. But at school, we showed everyone–teachers, students and parents–that it is not necessary to hit kids to keep order. While many of Zana’s students were removed from school, I’d bet that when they have children, they will value education more than their parents did.
The raw, freehand camera work of Born into Brothels conveys the immediacy of the story. It brings the viewers into the homes so that we gain a sense of Zana’s experiences and connection with the kids. It is such a treasure for her to have this documentation of her experiences. I have only praise for her extraordinary ability to connect with the students and to fundraise and advocate for them internationally. After the heartache that overwhelms much of my experiences with Guinea, Born into Brothels gives me a fresh perspective on the movie’s subject matter and on my own life.
*After asking around about the principal, we learned that he had a long-term drinking problem and had regressed to beating children in school before. I had a couple of frank discussions with him during which he was sincerely sorry and felt ashamed. One must remember that the teachers and students were refugees. All had PTSD and had suffered deep trauma from the atrocities they had survived in Sierra Leone. After all, Sabu was an opportunity to help the students, parents, and teachers.