Short of the Week: Harun Farocki meditates on violence and war
German auteur Harun Farocki will always be regarded as one of the most influential figures in the landscape of experimental cinema. Known for his insightful explorations of the epistemological and ontological frameworks of images, Farocki’s extensive filmography is essential for all film students and cinephiles.
For this edition of Short of the Week, we have selected Farocki’s incendiary 1969 critique of US imperialism and the horrors of the Vietnam war. Titled The Inextinguishable Fire, the film presents a minimalist vision of the production and manufacturing of napalm used in the war.
While many documentaries about the Vietnam war have tried to present the human impact through shocking images of burning bodies and pillaged villages, The Inextinguishable Fire takes a different approach. It exposes American hypocrisy through a harrowing portrait of Dow Chemical – the company responsible for producing the napalm B compound.
Although many of the manufacturers of napalm B stopped producing the compound after widespread protests, Dow Chemical went ahead with its ruthless trajectory. The company claimed that “its first obligation was to the government”, allowing the US military to continue dropping napalm bombs well into the 1970s.
In the film, the narrator declares: “If we show you pictures of napalm burns, you’ll close your eyes. First, you’ll close your eyes to the pictures. Then you’ll close your eyes to the memory. Then you’ll close your eyes to the facts. Then you’ll close your eyes to the entire context. If we show you a person with napalm burns, we will hurt your feelings.”
Farocki’s early gem is an indispensable work within the context of cinematic essays. Tinged with violent irony and seething contempt for the imperialist bloodshed unleashed by the American interference in Vietnam, The Inextinguishable Fire is undoubtedly among the most memorable critiques of the war that nobody wanted except the military-industrial complex.
Watch the short below.
