A Reflection on The Mangrove: An Investigation on the effects of McQueen’s cinematography on his presentation of 1960’s London

Steve McQueen’s film The Mangrove illustrates the violence faced not only by direct immigrants but by their descendants as well. As the son of first-generation immigrants, McQueen had firsthand experience with deeply ingrained racism towards immigrants widespread in the United Kingdom. The Mangrove centers around the “mangrove nine” who were wrongly accused of inciting a riot after months of being unfairly targeted by local police.[1]McQueen deftly moves the viewer through the film so as to paint a full picture of how the unique problems faced by the West Indie community in Notting Hill came to reflect the prevalence of racism in the justice system throughout the United Kingdom.[2]McQueen manipulates elements of film – such as camera angle, setting, and music – to offer different points of view on the Mangrove Nine’s story. His film tactics allow for an all-encompassing portrait of the underlying issues at play in the film – namely the desire of White authority figures to disallow the Black immigrant community from fostering any sense of community or self-sufficiency. Using the Notting Hill neighborhood as a microcosm of the greater United Kingdom, TheMangrovehighlights how pervasive corruption was in the 1960’s justice system that allowed for Black citizens to be terrorized.

                 The Mangrove uses setting to illustrate both sides of the war for survival. The black individuals centered throughout the film represent a desire of community and stability in the midst of constant and oftentimes random violence. On the other side, the White members of the justice system represent a desire to disallow the black immigrant population from establishing themselves in British culture, looking at them as an affront to British society and values.[3]Each location illuminates a different element of the immigrant experience and the fight for justice. The first half of the film bounces between The Mangrove restaurant, police quarters, and the streets as McQueen builds the tension.  The second half is almost entirely confined to the Old Bailey courtroom as the 11 weeklong trail unfolds.[4]Finally, the viewer is brought back to Notting Hill to celebrate a hard-earned win for the Black community. McQueen uses lighting, set, and sound to foster different feelings within the viewer as we move through the film while at the same time giving voice to a community that has been historically marginalized in British society.

At the start of the film, The Mangrove restaurant acts as a center of the Black community in Notting Hill. While The Mangrove’s owner, Frank, consistently asserts that his restaurant is “just like any other restaurant,” it is clear from the beginning of the film that that is not the case.[5]In the scene depicting the Mangrove’s opening night, the restaurant is filmed in warm light as the patrons are bathed in a homey orange glow. The camera pans around the restaurant as if you are viewing the scene as a patron yourself, showcasing the lively banter that fills the space. McQueen has the music of steel drums play over the lively sounds of conversation, bringing the sounds of the west indies to London. As the steel drums weave through the patrons and move outside, the characters flow into the street dancing and drinking around them in a festive ambiance. Through allowing his characters the space to flow freely from inside to outside the Mangrove, McQueen illustrates how the restaurant instilled a sense of safety in its patrons that extends outside of the its physical borders. All these elements work together to provide the viewer with a feeling of community and happiness, visually placing the Mangrove at the center of the film as McQueen uses the space to represent home and community.

McQueen consistently contrasts the happiness of The Mangrove with the sterile, dark environment of the police station and their patrol cars. In the viewers first introduction to PC Pulley, the sadist police officer who terrorizes Notting Hill’s Black community, he is shrouded in the darkness of a cop car looking out into the night as though stalking his prey. Pulley’s face is the sole focal point of the scene as he is illuminated by outside streetlight in an otherwise pitch-black car. In the first five seconds there is no noise apart from the muted music and chatter coming from The Mangrove. The silence is broken by Pulley when he says, “See the thing about the Black man is he has his place… He’s just gotta know his place. If he oversteps, he’s gotta be gently nudged back in.”[6]As he speaks, the camera angle switches and appears to enter his vision as McQueen shows a view of The Mangrove from inside the patrol car. Where the mangrove was bathed in orange hues in the prior scene, it is now slightly unfocused and illuminated primarily by its green sign – the community the viewer was watching just minutes ago now hidden from view. It appears as though this view of the Mangrove is colored by Pulley’s extremely overt hatred of the Black community as the viewer sees it from what appears to be his own eyes. In contrast to the fluid movement of the camera angles inside the Mangrove, the camera is stilled in this scene as it switches from Pulley’s profile, to Pulley’s view of the Mangrove from the police car, to Pulley’s partner. The ambiance of the scene is a polar opposite to the liveliness of the Mangrove that directly proceeded it. By juxtaposing the Mangrove’s opening scene and Pulley’s view of it with one another, McQueen visually introduces the tension that is to unfold throughout the rest of the film.

McQueen continues to use lighting and sound to portray the coldness of the police who calmly inflict pain and terrorize the Notting Hill community. He periodically moves the viewer to the police station and their patrol cars to illustrate the police officer’s apathy towards the community they are allegedly serving. For example, in the police station scene, the viewer is privy to a ‘behind the scenes’ picture of the police’s overt prejudice. The office is coldly lit with white light that creates a sense of ominous foreboding in the viewer. It is interesting to note that directly preceding this sterile scene the viewer was in the midst of a colorful street festival outside The Mangrove. Where the previous clip was filled with music and energy the viewer is now confronted with silence only interrupted by the sound of darts hitting the wall and PC Pulley’s unsettling comments. While the viewer already has a feeling that something is going to happen, the direction of the scene becomes clear when PC Royce says, “whoever draws the Ace of Spades has to go out and nick the first Black bastard they clap eyes on.” McQueen brings the viewer along for the insidious event, placing the camera inside the patrol car as if we are complicit in this crime of hate. The soundscape is, yet again, almost entirely silent apart from the rain and screeching of tires as the police chase the innocent man. The darkness of the scene gives it an ethereal feel and seems almost like a horror movie. Through these two scenes, McQueen illustrates the constant danger faced by the Black community on the streets that should be their own.

The streets, while a place of fear, also act as the setting for the beginning of justice as the tension between the Black community and the police culminates in a protest meant to call out the Police’s unjust harassment of the Mangrove. McQueen places Altheia at the center of the crowd as she acts as the voice of the people, calling attention to the fact that the oppression faced by the Mangrove is not an isolated event. A light rain persists throughout the scene, casting a grey light is over the demonstration. The use of rain draws a parallel between the protest and the earlier scene of the police chase as we watch Altheia’s reflection through a rain splattered window. As the group mobilizes and begins its march to the police station, McQueen highlights individual faces as they chant, “Black power,” humanizing the crowd. Conversely, the mass of police officers who encircle the protest are almost faceless as they dissolve into a swarming mass. McQueen only films the officers’ feet as they stream out of the police station towards the crowd, taking away their individuality as they hurl insults at the peaceful protestors. As the tension builds between the two groups, the camera angle begins to jostle between frames. This manipulation of angle and frame makes the viewer feel as though they are a part of the crowd, providing a sense of confusion and fear. The Black community uses this demonstration to give themselves a voice in the face of systemic injustice. Despite the protest being for The Mangrove, it also applies to the injustices faced by all Black citizens of the United Kingdom.

The second half of the film marks a moment of transition as what was a unique Notting Hill issue becomes a problem of national importance. Nearly the entire second half of The Mangrove takes place in the Old Bailey Courtroom, a place “normally reserved for only the most serious of crimes.” The setting itself does a lot of work for the film. Placing the proceedings for a decidedly peaceful crime in a building defined by violence represents an unequal playing field as well as the intimidation tactics employed by the government to silence Black voices. The physical nature of the court room serves to separate individuals from one another. Where the camera moved smoothly around the flowing tables of the Mangrove it now sits stagnant in the rows of the courtroom. McQueen places the viewer in various parts of the courtroom as the camera angle moves from the balcony to the witness stand to the jury to the prosecution. This manipulation of angle gives the viewer a sense of being inside the court with the defendants. When panning through the court room, McQueen stills the camera on the protest signs affixed to the witness stand. The signs are beacons in an otherwise antique looking room – illustrating the presence of a new energy in the court. Throughout the hour of the film spent in the Old Bailey, McQueen peppers in reggae music such as Skinhead Moonstop over the proceedings. Yet again, this stylistic choice inserts the Mangrove Nine’s west indie heritage into the stuffy, historical British building.

Two of the defendants, Howe and Altheia, decide to represent themselves in court allowing them to “take [their] message inside the building… and talk directly to the jury,” and transition from “victims to protagonists of their own stories.”[7]Throughout their time in court, the defendants find ways to work the court’s prejudice against itself, taking charge of the narrative. In the court’s final testimonies, McQueen presents Howe in soft light which illuminates him as he takes his stand. Unlike the rest of the defendants and prosecution who are clothed in dark colors, Howe is wearing white and blue. This stylistic choice places Howe apart from the courtroom, yet again illustrating a new energy that is asserting itself. As Howe’s speech progresses the camera angle pans upwards to show members of the Notting Hill community above him. The angle gives a sense of community as the audience lifts Howe’s words and project them through the court room. When the verdicts are finally given, instead of moving the camera through the room McQueen keeps it statically posed on Frank’s face. The scene conjured up Howe’s quote before the protests when he told Frank, “I see a man who has become a leader to his people… leaders who are rooted deeply in the people they lead.”[8]Frank took up the burden of leadership when all he wanted was peace. By centering the Mangrove Nine’s win on Frank, McQueen is affirming his position within the group and allowing Frank the space to savor the win for justice.

                 The Mangrove embodies McQueen’s ability to showcase the “interplay between the pleasures and frustrations of everyday life and the larger struggles around race, class and state power in post-imperial Britain.”[9]To end the film, McQueen brings the viewer back to Notting Hill where it all began. Finally free from the stress of the court room, the viewer is yet again placed in the homey Mangrove restaurant. The camera follows Frank as he flows through the patrons, a far cry from the mostly stilted camera angles of the courtroom. Outside the Mangrove, Frank talks to Dolston who says he is “going home,” to which Frank counters, “This we home Dol. The Mangrove.” This claim is powerful as the viewer knows just how arduous the journey to justice and homecoming was for Frank and the rest of the Mangrove Nine. As the scene closes, the soft tune of Toots and the Maytals’ “Pressure Drop” plays as a triumphant song about karmic justice.[10]The song is a fitting way to end the movie as it leaves us with lyrics promising those who do bad against he innocent will have a storm coming to them.

 

WORKS CITED

  1. Steve McQueen, The Mangrove, Small Axe Series,
  2. Nitish Pahwa, “What’s Fact and What’s Fiction in Steve McQueen’s Mangrove”, Slate, November 20, 2020.
  3. Professor Schor, London Literature Lecture Notes.
  4. AO Scott. ‘Mangrove’ Review: A restaurants Radicalism. November 19, 2020.https://www.nytimes.com/2020/11/19/movies/mangrove-review-small-axe.html
  5. Catherine Baksi, Landmarks in law: When the Mangrove Nine beat the British State. November 10, 2020. https://www.theguardian.com/law/2020/nov/10/landmarks-in-law-when-the-mangrove-nine-beat-the-british-state
  6. Diane Pien, “Mangrove Nine Trial”, Black Past, July 2, 2018. https://www.blackpast.org/global-african-history/mangrove-nine-trial-1970-1972/

Oliver Twist and the Struggle of the Migrant Child for Justice in London

In Dickens’ Oliver Twist, Oliver descends into the world of criminals when the Artful Dodger introduces him to Fagin. Throughout the novel, Oliver is led across London by these criminals as they attempt to initiate him into a life of crime. Oliver’s migration around the city implicates the entire city as bystanders to his unjust treatment, thus placing London itself on trial. In this trial, London is charged with an indictment of injustice against a migrant child in need. Evidence of the city’s guilt emerges from a variety of sources: mob justice, the court system, and the policing system all fail to provide the migrant child with aid. Thus, by the end of the trial, there is little choice but to find London guilty of all charges.

The mob justice system is an incredibly potent force in the novel. It often acts as the first level of law enforcement before officers can arrive on the scene. This is especially evident in the passage where Oliver is chased by an angry mob after he is falsely accused of stealing a handkerchief. Here, Dickens writes of the pursuit:

“’Stop thief! Stop thief!’ There is a passion for hunting, something deeply implanted in the human breast. One wretched
breathless child, panting with exhaustion; terror in his looks;
agony in his eyes; large drops of perspiration streaming down
his face; strains every nerve to make head upon his pursuers; and
as they follow on his track, and gain upon him every instant,
they hail his decreasing strength with joy.” – Oliver Twist, Chapter 10

Oliver’s pursuers are not drawn into the chase because they’re concerned with the proper execution of justice; rather, they are enthralled by the thrill of the hunt. The language in this passage is so powerfully evocative of a predatory pack that the word ‘child’ can easily be replaced with the word ‘deer’. Dickens’ portrayal of the “attraction of repulsion” comes from a history of observing the attitudes of London bystanders in relation to capital punishment. In February 1946, Dickens wrote a letter about his experiences at Courvoisier’s hanging in 1840. He remarked that among the entire crowd he saw “no sorrow, no salutary terror, no abhorrence, no seriousness; nothing but ribaldry, debauchery, levity, drunkenness, and flaunting vice in fifty other shapes.” He further goes on to say “I should have deemed it impossible that I could have ever felt any large assemblage of my fellow-creatures to be so odious” (Horne). Dickens is repulsed by their lack of repulsion, a sentiment that emerges clearly in his references to mob justice carried out on an innocent child. He continues with this theme in the second instance Oliver is placed at the mercy of the crowd: when he is being kidnapped from Pentonville.

When Mr. Brownlow sends Oliver on a task to return some books to the book-stall in Clerkenwell, Nancy captures the boy by pretending he is her runaway brother. Despite Oliver’s protests, all of the looker-ons refused to believe him. Rather, they encouraged his kidnappers, even when Bill Sikes used violence:

“With these words, the man tore the volumes from
his grasp, and struck him on the head.
‘That’s right!’ cried a looker-on, from a garret-window. ‘That’s
the only way of bringing him to his senses!’
‘To be sure!’ cried a sleepy-faced carpenter, casting an
approving look at the garret-window.
‘It’ll do him good!’ said the two women.” –Oliver Twist, Chapter 15

Just as in the Clerkenwell mob, the crowd is unified by their approbation of punishment despite a lack of evidence proving the child’s guilt. There seems to be something about Oliver that makes him appear particularly culpable to the public eye. From the very beginning of his life, Oliver is classified as a ruffian. When Oliver was named by Mr. Bumble, he was given the last name “Twist”. “Twisted” was one of the slang words for “hanged” at the time, referring to the way one twisted as they swung on the rope (Horne). By giving Oliver this name, Mr. Bumble lays out his expectations for a young child born in poverty, as well as that of London society. Criminals were often sentenced to death by hanging, especially thieves. The Londoners predict that a child like Oliver is bound for the same fate. Nothing Oliver says seems to be enough to convince the crowd of his innocence, so much so that “overpowered by the conviction of the bystanders that he really was the hardened little wretch he was described to be” (ch. 10), Oliver gives up resistance.

Societal expectations for the migrant, impoverished child are not only evident in the city’s common crowd, but also in its court system. Oliver is shown no mercy by the judge, even when evidence against his involvement in the crime is produced by the officer. At the trial, the policeman gives his account of the events:

“The policeman, with becoming humility, related how
he had taken the charge; how he had searched Oliver, and
found nothing on his person; and how that was all he knew
about it. ‘Are there any witnesses?’ inquired Mr. Fang. ‘None,
your worship,’ replied the policeman.” – Oliver Twist, Chapter 11

Oliver is found innocent of the crime that he is charged with; however, he is still treated like a criminal. Right after receiving this evidence, the justice calls Oliver a young vagabond, branding him with the title of a criminal simply because Mr. Brownlow assumed Oliver to be connected with the thieves that had performed the crime. Moreover, the court dismisses the fear and illness of the boy, even when he faints in the courtroom:

“’I think he really is ill, your worship,’ remonstrated the
officer.
‘I know better,’ said Mr. Fang.
‘Take care of him, officer,’ said the old gentleman, raising his
hands instinctively; ‘he’ll fall down.’
‘Stand away, officer,’ cried Fang; ‘let him, if he likes.’
Oliver availed himself of the kind permission, and fell to the
floor in a fainting fit. The men in the office looked at each
other, but no one dared to stir.
‘I knew he was shamming,’ said Fang, as if this were
incontestable proof of the fact. ‘Let him lie there; he’ll soon
be tired of that.’” – Oliver Twist, Chapter 11

In the eyes of the court, Oliver didn’t deserve the kindness that would normally be shown to a child of his age on account of his possible association with criminality. Childhood is a social construct; who is perceived as a child varies between cultures, hence, the concept of child innocence also carries a sort of ambivalence. There is an ignorance expected of children at a certain age that makes it unreasonable to accuse them of a crime. Legally, in 19th century London, this age only extended as far as seven years old. Any child older than this would have to prove their innocence before a court of law. Oliver, who is older than seven when he is placed before the court, is not guaranteed protection because of his age. He is tried as any adult would be in a court of law, and unfairly. Hence, he is given a sentence of 3 months’ hard labor as he lays unconscious on the floor of the courtroom. Dickens’ juxtaposition of judgement and vulnerability in Oliver Twist emphasizes the city’s black and white approach to justice. In the robbery at Chertsey this juxtaposition resurfaces, demonstrating the importance of this idea in identifying the problems with London law enforcement.

Bill Sikes takes Oliver to Chertsey to break into the home of Mrs. Maylie and let the robbers inside. Oliver attempts to warn the family as soon as he enters the house, but in the process he gets shot in the arm. Abandoned by the robbers, Oliver is left with no choice but to crawl to the Maylie’s door and beg for assistance. When the child has begun to recover, he divulges his entire story to the doctor and Rose Maylie. Yet, even this does not seem to free Oliver in the eyes of the law. The doctor and Rose discuss Oliver’s predicament in this passage:

‘Surely,’ said Rose, ‘the poor child’s story, faithfully
repeated to these men, will be sufficient to exonerate him.’
‘I doubt it, my dear young lady,’ said the doctor, shaking
his head. ‘I don’t think it would exonerate him, either with
them, page or with legal functionaries of a higher grade.
What is he, after all, they would say? A runaway. Judged by
mere worldly considerations and probabilities,
his story is a very doubtful one.’ – Oliver Twist, Chapter 31

In the end, to prevent his arrest, the boy’s supporters have no choice but to cast doubt on the claim that Oliver was the same child who broke in through the window. The doctor firmly believed that if they had told the truth, Oliver could still be arrested while he was on the brink of death. This cold-hearted approach to justice appears to be an intense dramatization of a rather small crime. Indeed, Wolff speculates ‘if Dickens indulges in some displacement of affect, charging the issue of theft with the highest literary energy, it is because there may be more at stake than stealing. For Dickens himself theft was the first term, and the only criminally specific term, in a series that culminated in “all that’s bad.”’ Oliver Twist isn’t a novel about a child struggling against becoming a thief; rather, it is a novel about a child battling against total moral corruption. Hence, the punishment for becoming a thief, a choice that is comparative to becoming all that is evil, is most severe. However, Oliver wasn’t a thief, nor the willing associate of thieves. He was a sickly, weak, and wounded child. The fact that his story would not be accepted by London’s enforcers of justice is one of the greatest injustices in the novel. Indeed, a punishment so severe for a child so innocent threatens the very meaning of justice itself. Chertsey’s law enforcement, just like the law enforcement in other parts of the city, has failed Oliver.

In conclusion, Oliver Twist is a story that follows a migrant child and his struggle against the injustice of the city of London. London fails to prove Oliver’s guilt through a fair trial and questioning, instead assuming his criminality from the start; it fails to help him when his life is in danger; finally, it fails to believe him when he attempts to show his innocence. London is guilty of grave injustice to the migrant child; it is only through the kindness of individuals that Oliver is saved in the end.

Works Cited:
Dickens, Charles. Oliver Twist. Leigh Little.
Wolff, Larry. “”The Boys are Pickpockets, and the Girl is a Prostitute”: Gender and Juvenile Criminality in Early Victorian England from Oliver Twist to London Labour.” New Literary History, vol. 27 no. 2, 1996, p. 227-249. Project MUSE, doi:10.1353/nlh.1996.0029.
Horne, Phillip. “Crime in Oliver Twist”. British Library. 15 May 2017. https://www.bl.uk/romantics-and-victorians/articles/crime-in-oliver-twist#. Accessed 3 May 2021.