Abdellatif Kechiche, a Tunisian film-director, forces viewers to travel back in time to 19th century France or England with Venus Noire. This new theatre is where scientific breakthroughs are regaining their relevance in academia. Although this science is attractive to wealthy White elites and the well-off, it’s not the truth. These findings are Social Darwinism disguised by sound, methodical conclusion. Georges Cuvier presented Saartjie, also known as the Hottentot Venus, to his audience. The story of Hottentot Venus’ capture begins to unfold only as the movie goes on.
Five years before Cuvier’s lecture, we are taken to London to see a circus. Saartjie is a primitive fool who then lets the audience touch her buttocks. Caezar’s show is too much for her, and officials started to wonder if the exhibition was actually slavery. To protect her future financially, Saartjie insists that Caezar is innocent of all charges. Caezar then exchanges cash with Reaux for Saartjie’s work. Saartjie does not have time to consider her future as she is already performing at the same disgusting shows, but this one in French salons. She rebels, and she is eventually used as a prostitute. Saartjie then sells to French scientists, who keep parts of her body and preserve her body in a plaster model. The movie ends with us coming full circle to Georges Cuvier’s lecture, which we first saw at the start of the film. We are more familiar now with the struggle for such a rare specimen.
Venus Noire still has a bit of humor, but it’s not as lighthearted as the painful routines Saartjie faces. Caezar is a true man by his oppressive treatment of Saartjie. His attempts to keep control of her are a symbol of European nations’ efforts to colonize Africa.
d in the status-quo. Reaux invites audience members to touch Saartjie’s sexual organs in a later show. It is a strange reminiscence of Orwell’s Brave New World. Saartjie is not just consumed from start-to-finish. This is the result of an endless cycle of consumer products that are broken down and then digested.
Venus Noire takes its viewers to the margins, giving them a view from the wall. As viewers, we are forced to sit on the sidelines and watch each scene. Scenes taken in London are part of the show’s audience. In Paris we join the French salon and help Saartjie to defile his genitalia. Finally, Saartjie, who is now a professional in the oldest occupation in the world, dies from lack of treatment. We are tired and numbed by these disturbing images. Saartjie’s remains are not yet put to sleep. Instead, it is kept for scientific research.
Kechiche’s directing of Venus Noire is a forceful exercise. Kechiche seizes Saartjie’s character through such scenes. She is relegated to quarters for her London career, Paris life, prostitution and her eventual role as a scientific curiosity. Kechiche is very open about his blindness to the outside world, showing how awful life can be. Kechiche does not take prisoners. However, it is difficult to argue Venus Noire doesn’t explicitly and effectively depict the dark history of European colonialism.
Despite this, Kechiche’s direction with Venus Noire isn’t surprising. The movie is too long. It drags on for almost three hours and becomes an exhausting marathon, which eventually ruins the viewers’ patience. Kechiche did a good job of showing us a section of Saartjie’s history. Variety Reviews raises an interesting point about Venus Noire, who portrayed the British in a better light than the French. It makes it appear that the British law was trying to protect Saartjie from being abused by the French. This is unfair considering that the British were just as guilty of colonialism.
Saartjie was known for her unusual qualities, including her near-silence. Saartjie, despite being an unconventional protagonist, is more passive than her quiet counterpart. The audience is not given much insight into Saartjie’s emotions and decision-making process. Despite these situations being realistic, movie-goers are left without any tangible, moral reward after the film ends. Yahima Tores, the actress playing Saartjie, argued that her character is usually in an environment that doesn’t allow her to speak Afrikaans. Torres claimed that Saartjie might find peace in silence. This argument is a flop. When Torres pushes her beyond her emotional limits, Saartjie remains the lonergy individual Torres supports during her time with Caezar. Saartjie is more silent than usual in an Afrikaans-friendly environment.
Reflecting on Saartjie’s troubles in Paris and London, it is disturbing that she has not been given any background before arriving in Europe. Although Venus Noire shows Saartjie’s inability to control where she performs, Kechiche completely forgot to explain to her audience what conditions forced her to go to Europe. Because Venus Noire already depicts Saartjie, a character who is unable to express herself and her thoughts, as a oppressed character. This dissonance only makes Saartjie more of a movie’s protagonist. This is a surprising position for two reasons. First, it defies convention in stories that demand steadfast protagonists. Second, it forces movie-goers to follow the storyline of an increasingly unknown stranger.
While the movie does require an audience investment, Kechiche has a unique effect on viewers. Venus Noire encourages viewers to think critically about the cinematic experience, question the value of being a protagonist, and reflect on what we actually get from watching it. Although Kechiche’s direction is subject to criticism, his approach is captivating. While the question isn’t whether colonialism is beautiful, his distance from Saartjie allows movie-watchers to appreciate her character in a more organic way.
