Popular Culture Review Vol. 12, No. 2, August 2001 | Page 117
Museums of Imperialism
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industrial and preindustrial societies and also served as tools of exploitation which
included the sending in of troops faster by trains, intensive mining and its subsequent
dislocation factor, both of which hastened the oppression (and enslavement) of the
native population (Adas 143-144).
The portrayal of native peoples as bumblers, or incompetents, makes it
easier for the audience to believe that a “white knight”, an heroic westerner, is
viable as a saviour even in the most outlandish circumstance. Whether it is Yankee
ingenuity or Saxon pride, the North American audience knows that Indy will make
it through the tortuous course of obstacles where so many natives lay strewn about.
Only indy can bring back the holy stones to the village, thus securing the children’s
freedom. In The Last Crusade, it is Anglo-Americana that is teamed together to
find the Holy Grail, in a show of British grit and American manliness.
Combined with a potent narrative, the technology of cinema and television
aids in forming our perception of the “Other” in the Indiana Jones trilogy. As
western viewers, the audience is viewing the situation presented from a position of
distance and privilege. This perspectives affects one’s sense of history. According
to Robert Stem and Louise Spence, “The magic carpet provided by these apparatuses
[TV, film] flies us around the globe and makes us, by virtue of our strategic position,
its audio-visual masters. It produces us as subjects, transforming us into armchair
conquistadors, affirming our sense of power while making the inhabitants of the
third world objects of spectacle for the first world’s voyeuristic gaze” (Stem and
Spence 4). Since the inception of movies, the third world, minorities and native
cultures have often been portrayed in a negative fashion. As a consequence, the
perception of the spectator is particularly affected. From his or her unique vantage
point, a particular mediated version of history is formed. Tom Englehardt’s approach
to this concept has recognized both the intent of the message and the result. He
writes that the viewer “is forced behind the barrel of a repeating rifle and it is from
that position, through its gun sights, that he receives a picture history of Western
colonialism and imperialism.” In this “cinematic structure”, the opportunity for
“sympathy ceases to exist” (Englehardt 481).
The potency of this accumulated perspective affects not only viewers but
also producers. For even when a positive portrait of a citizen from the third world
is attempted in mainstream film, this individual in framed in a loosely veiled
stereotype. More often than not, he or she is likely to be a “devoted subordinate”
who “finds fulfilment in selfless service to, or loving association with, a white
superior” (Parenti 17).
Since the origin of European/Westem exploration of Africa, South America
and even North America, writers have written about the countries - their
geographies, minerals, resources and even their animals, far more than their
indigenous peoples (Pratt 52-61). This theme has been carried forth into film and