Vanishing Tattoo --
Trip Updates
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Why am I here? This question has begun to haunt me. I wanted to become a filmmaker who crafted films that spoke to people. But I've chosen an art form in which you can invest years of your life and at the end of it, have nothing to show for it. I think that most of the people who are my friends, my family, those who know me, care about me and love me, often wonder the same thing. You go through life and experience the disappointments that are part of the fabric of life, you suffer the betrayal of those who you thought were your friends and yet we struggle on to seize those moments that offer us a fleeting chance at an epiphany. I have been wracking my brain to figure out what the through line is for The Vanishing Tattoo. On this project I have the pleasure of working with two of the most talented filmmakers I have ever met in a dozen years in the film business, Jack Silberman and PJ Reece. When I first conceived of the idea for The Vanishing tattoo nearly two years ago, I sought out Jack and PJ not only for their talent, but because they are two of the most honorable people I've ever met in the film business. A lot of other people I've met could learn a thing or two from Jack and PJ. Jack keeps telling me, "Find the story." PJ keeps telling me (and he and I have been writing partners off and on for over a decade) "Find the scenes." And as I've traveled through Japan and Borneo, I've been struck by what North America and the West have exported to these cultures over the years. Rampant industrialization, traffic congestion, heart disease, and pollution, all of which I'm sure they would have invented sooner or later on their own, but also those pinnacles of western civilization, McDonald's and KFC, and Coca-Cola and the worst movies you've never seen. But in talking with all these wonderful old Iban men I realize, and it strikes me like a thunder-clap, that we've exported something far worse into these unique cultures and richly diverse societies. Like generations of well-meaning but bigoted and narrow-minded missionaries before us, we've exported shame. Walt Disney said it best in Bambi, "Man has entered the forest." It still sends shivers down my spine. And once man has entered the forest, nothing will ever be the same again. The Vanishing Tattoo is about an art form that has enriched the lives and fabric of diverse cultures all over the world and yet is in imminent danger of disappearing forever. Why? Because when we introduced ourselves into this diversity of cultures and into the incredible variety of tribal tattooing that takes place around the world, we also introduced shame. We made aboriginal peoples ashamed of who they were,
we made them ashamed of their tattoos. We made them feel ashamed
for being different from us, for looking differently than us. It's time for people all over the world to stop having to hide or cover up their tattoos. The old Iban men, and the young Iban men should go forth proudly, tattoos displayed to the world, proclaiming to all who would see, "I am Iban." And the same thing should happen in Tahiti, should happen in Samoa and among the Maori in New Zealand. They should go forth, unashamed, their tattoos bared for the world to see, for their tattoos represent who they are. When you shame someone into covering their tattoos, or shame them from getting tattoos that are the marks that identify them in their society, then you are slowly condemning their culture to death, just as surely as if you destroyed the individual. I hope The Vanishing Tattoo will be able to document that people are not ashamed of who they are, are not ashamed of their indigenous culture and most importantly are not ashamed of that most visible of markers that identify who they are, I hope we document that they are not ashamed of their tattoos. Vince Hemingson in Borneo |
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