Popular Culture Review Vol. 12, No. 2, August 2001 | Page 117

Museums of Imperialism 113 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