A Society of Surveillance: Paranoia Thrillers as Social Commentary

As Elssaser and Hagner point out in their work, Film Theory: An Introduction through the Senses, paranoia thrillers, which were popular in the 1970s, (Three Days of The Condor, 1975; The Parallax View, 1971; Kilite, 1971) have made a comeback in the atmosphere of post-9/11 concerns about security. Certain contemporary films reflect modern society’s concern with security and the way surveillance has become a reaching force in all aspects of life. Elsasser and Hagner use films like Eagle Eye (2008), Flightplan (2005) and the TV series 24 (2001) as examples, but there are also more recent examples showing at the 2016 Edinburgh International Film Festival, such as The White King (2016) and A Patch of Fog (2015). These films exemplify the works of post-modern theorists like Michael Focuault, who, borrowing on Lacan’s psychoanalysis works regarding “the gaze”, theorize a panopticon as a model of society and subjectivity. Recently, the idea of an omniscient gaze and the threat it poses to individual autonomy has taken on particular relevance in wake of protests and clashes between police and communities of color. Using films that incorporate the gaze of the “Other” in narrative and visual style, we might better understand not only how the issue of of surveillance has become central to social identities, but also how a camera lens represents an imbalance of power as people struggle to become the object of their own gaze and not the subject of that of the “Other.”

The White King (2016) tells the story of a pre-teen, Djata (Lorenzo Allchurch), who rebels against the fascist and isolationist dictatorship in which he lives. The film’s mise en scene calls attention to the idea of an all-seeing “Other” as the film is set in a dystopian agrarian village in central Europe. The village looks as if set in the 1950s, but is patrolled by high-tech, omniscient surveillance cameras and an enormous statue of the ‘founding father,’ which towers over the village from atop a nearby mountain as if keeping watch. The characters’ actions demonstrate that they aware of the constant gaze of a powerful “Other.” In one scene, for example, Djata plays outside in the street at dusk when his mother, glancing nervously upward toward a survailence camera, demands he come inside the house before curfew.

Surveillance is also central to the narrative themes of A Patch of Fog (2015). The Film’s protagonist, Sandy Duff (Conleth Hill) is a wealthy literary celebrity with a dark secret: he is a kleptomaniac and a habitual shoplifter. When a security guard, Robert, (Stephen Gram) begins to stalk Duff, he uses surveillance footage of Duff shoplifting to blackmail the writer into a “buddy” relationship. The film’s visual style is important in guiding the spectator through Sandy’s self-consciousness of the threat of being watched. Shaky handheld camera show Sandy constantly looking over his shoulder and scanning his surroundings. There are also frequent cuts to uncanny, objective angles from high above (positioned in the corner of a room, or above a streetlight, for example) as Sandy darts in and out of frame if trying to avoid a surveillence camera.

In this way, both The White King and A Patch of Fog call attention to the fact that there is another “gaze” present— a camera. The spectator’s act of identifying with this panoptical “gaze” emphasizes the fact of being seen, and is not concerned, as Elsasser and Hagner argue, with an active, “look.” According to Foucault, we have internalized this gaze of the omniscient “Other” and integrated it into our own subjectivity to such an extreme degree that there is no longer a need for an actual person to uphold this system of surveillance. The threat that we might be observed at anytime holds us captive to this system even if no one is actually watching us. The ‘all seeing eye’ of the camera is associated with discipline or self-monitoring, rather than visual pleasure. We are no longer the object of our own gaze, but the subject of the gaze of the “Other.” According to Foucault, “Our society is not one of spectacle but of surveillance… We are neither in ampitheatre, nor on the stage, but in the panoptic machine, invested by its effects of power, which we bring to ourselves, since we are part of its mechanism.”[1]

Using Foucault’s analysis we can understand the relationship between surveillance, discipline, and the deployment of power. The anxiety brought on by this complicated relationship is arguably something experienced daily by people of color in the United States. The experience of constantly being watched while moving through public space, of being perpetually marked by skin color, manner of dress, or physical bearing weighs heavy on the conscious of many. This is the experience of not only being a “suspicious” body, but of being disciplined, controlled, and already indicted in and through the constant gaze of an “Other.” This is the experience of being incarcerated, or unfree.

Thus, perhaps we can view protests and clashes between black communities and police as an expression of exclusion from meaningful participation and recognition in the life of society. When demonstrators take to the streets, they are, in effect, breaking free of the surveillance and control maintained by modern social structures. This is something that many citizens cannot and perhaps will not understand. From the safety of their own “Panopticons”—the screens of their television and other personal devices—many watch protesters from the comfort of their homes. They see ‘subjects’ as “thugs,” “hoodlums,” or “criminals.” This is the exact point that protesters are attempting to make clear. Poor communities of color experience their “public” and “free” space as surveilled space. When all aspects of their environment are controlled, their bodies cease to be not their own. Instead, they become the subject of the ‘Other’—perpetually examined, fragmented, and disciplined by various modes of power.

[1] Elsaesser, Thomas, and Malte Hagener. Film Theory: An Introduction through the Senses. New York: Routledge, 2010. Print.