The civil war and genocide of 1994 in Rwanda remains one of the major unknown catastrophes of recent times, despite the European colonial mistakes that were mostly responsible for it. In just a few months the majority Hutu population slaughtered almost a million of the minority Tutsi people in an act of barbarianism practically beyond comprehension. Although the world was well aware of what was going on, with an UN contingent present in the country from the very beginning, we did nothing to stop this horrendous atrocity from happening. In fact, when the possibility arose that Western people could be at risk we simply cut all links and ran, hiding behind sanctions and rhetoric as the Tutsis were slaughtered. Of course the complexities of intervening in a civil war meant that rash action had a very real possibility of inflaming the situation, with a not insignificant number of countries neighbouring Rwanda less than enamoured of the Tutsis themselves. Nevertheless, our inactivity remains as a black stain on the conscience of the West, particularly the UN. Shooting Dogs shows us a very human perspective of what we allowed to happen.
It starts with the relatively calm and peaceful lives of Joe (Hugh Dancy) and Father Christopher (John Hurt), the former a GAP student teaching in the Rwandan capital, the latter a Roman Catholic priest. Joe is a well off young man trying to give something back to the world while Christopher is an established ex-pat and someone who has seen a little of what can happen during a coup d'etat. They run a school and church in a compound guarded by UN troops who are observing the recently formed system of rule whereby power is shared between the Tutsis and the Hutus. In the school the predominantly Tutsi students have little to worry them and there is no sense of us and them: the groundsman Roland is a Hutu and everyone seems perfectly at ease with him... And then the Hutu Rwandan president is killed when his plane is shot down.
Building up to this we have the occasional moment of concern. Some consensus is happening whereby all Tutsi homes have to be identified. Hutu politicians are making ominous noises. Hutu children think nothing of throwing stones at a 'cockroach' Tutsi and the captain in charge of the Belgian troops of the UN (Dominique Horwitz) seems nervous about the situation, particularly his mandate for when he can engage the enemy: he is only to fire if fired upon and if he wants to use his heavy machine guns he requires written confirmation from the Secretary General of the UN...
What happens next is the stuff of nightmares. Shooting Dogs offers little explanation of why the massacre occurred, although there are allusions to the previous Tutsi dominance of many years where the Hutus were little more than slaves. Regardless, with the death of the President, the Hutu people rise up as one and begin to slaughter their Tutsi brethren. It makes for grim viewing, though nothing we see is particularly gratuitous. In fact, the calmness of the Hutus as they go about their genocide is far more disturbing than the savageness one might have expected. Added to this are the transparent attempts at duplicity by a Hutu minister which indicate there is more than mere racist opportunism at work.
Within a day the Hutus are all up in arms, called by national radio to destroy the supposed Tutsi aggressor. With nowhere to go many of the Tutsis are slaughtered. Some make it to UN controlled bases where, in the case of this film, Father Christopher insists they are given shelter... but how long can Capitaine Delon remain in position with his troops, especially after the Tutsi Prime Minister is slaughtered, along with her UN guard...? The meat of the film concerns Joe and Christopher's attempts to impose some sort of order on their chaotic surroundings. They achieve tiny miracles to fuel their hope and that of the people around them: finding some medicine for a sick child for example. But their every success is instantly dashed as the Hutus gather around the school, simply biding their time till the inevitable UN pull out. The monstrous, carnival spirit of the Hutus is particularly abhorrent, as they sing and dance in anticipation of the slaughter, blowing whistles and waving their weapons in the air.
We, the audience, are left in little doubts as to what is going to happen, and the slow realisation that dawns on Joe and Christopher is almost as painful for us as it is for them. Based on a true account, shot on location and staffed by many survivors of the massacres, Shooting Dogs pulls few punches. From a woman hacked to death while clutching her new born child to the mere second's hesitation before the Hutu man buries his machete to silence the baby, this movie chills and saddens in ways far beyond any fictional horror. The fact that it grieves more than it sickens is thanks to the low key direction and, mostly, restrained performances throughout. Neither Hurt, Dancy or anyone else allows themselves to cut lose into monologues, instead they try to contain their emotions so that no one else might see the fear they feel until, finally, we have the great question that the two men must answer: do they stay or do they go when the troops finally leave? To stay is to die at the blade of a machete. To go is to suffer the awesome burden of the survivor. But at least you will survive to tell the rest of us what went on...
This tragedy happened, it was reported to us and we read it, yet we simply tut tutted and turned to the sport section of our newspapers. Now, with films like Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs we are finally being shown just what we ignored. It should practically be compulsory for us to view it.
It starts with the relatively calm and peaceful lives of Joe (Hugh Dancy) and Father Christopher (John Hurt), the former a GAP student teaching in the Rwandan capital, the latter a Roman Catholic priest. Joe is a well off young man trying to give something back to the world while Christopher is an established ex-pat and someone who has seen a little of what can happen during a coup d'etat. They run a school and church in a compound guarded by UN troops who are observing the recently formed system of rule whereby power is shared between the Tutsis and the Hutus. In the school the predominantly Tutsi students have little to worry them and there is no sense of us and them: the groundsman Roland is a Hutu and everyone seems perfectly at ease with him... And then the Hutu Rwandan president is killed when his plane is shot down.
Building up to this we have the occasional moment of concern. Some consensus is happening whereby all Tutsi homes have to be identified. Hutu politicians are making ominous noises. Hutu children think nothing of throwing stones at a 'cockroach' Tutsi and the captain in charge of the Belgian troops of the UN (Dominique Horwitz) seems nervous about the situation, particularly his mandate for when he can engage the enemy: he is only to fire if fired upon and if he wants to use his heavy machine guns he requires written confirmation from the Secretary General of the UN...
What happens next is the stuff of nightmares. Shooting Dogs offers little explanation of why the massacre occurred, although there are allusions to the previous Tutsi dominance of many years where the Hutus were little more than slaves. Regardless, with the death of the President, the Hutu people rise up as one and begin to slaughter their Tutsi brethren. It makes for grim viewing, though nothing we see is particularly gratuitous. In fact, the calmness of the Hutus as they go about their genocide is far more disturbing than the savageness one might have expected. Added to this are the transparent attempts at duplicity by a Hutu minister which indicate there is more than mere racist opportunism at work.
Within a day the Hutus are all up in arms, called by national radio to destroy the supposed Tutsi aggressor. With nowhere to go many of the Tutsis are slaughtered. Some make it to UN controlled bases where, in the case of this film, Father Christopher insists they are given shelter... but how long can Capitaine Delon remain in position with his troops, especially after the Tutsi Prime Minister is slaughtered, along with her UN guard...? The meat of the film concerns Joe and Christopher's attempts to impose some sort of order on their chaotic surroundings. They achieve tiny miracles to fuel their hope and that of the people around them: finding some medicine for a sick child for example. But their every success is instantly dashed as the Hutus gather around the school, simply biding their time till the inevitable UN pull out. The monstrous, carnival spirit of the Hutus is particularly abhorrent, as they sing and dance in anticipation of the slaughter, blowing whistles and waving their weapons in the air.
We, the audience, are left in little doubts as to what is going to happen, and the slow realisation that dawns on Joe and Christopher is almost as painful for us as it is for them. Based on a true account, shot on location and staffed by many survivors of the massacres, Shooting Dogs pulls few punches. From a woman hacked to death while clutching her new born child to the mere second's hesitation before the Hutu man buries his machete to silence the baby, this movie chills and saddens in ways far beyond any fictional horror. The fact that it grieves more than it sickens is thanks to the low key direction and, mostly, restrained performances throughout. Neither Hurt, Dancy or anyone else allows themselves to cut lose into monologues, instead they try to contain their emotions so that no one else might see the fear they feel until, finally, we have the great question that the two men must answer: do they stay or do they go when the troops finally leave? To stay is to die at the blade of a machete. To go is to suffer the awesome burden of the survivor. But at least you will survive to tell the rest of us what went on...
This tragedy happened, it was reported to us and we read it, yet we simply tut tutted and turned to the sport section of our newspapers. Now, with films like Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs we are finally being shown just what we ignored. It should practically be compulsory for us to view it.