From the "Biz" Archives:
EDITORIAL: Arthur Dong: "Anger is what pushes me forward"
by Arthur Dong
I was asked by a student at a recent presentation of my films: "What keeps you going after all these years?" My answer: "Anger. Anger that the world is an unfair place. Anger that after over 25 years I still need to make films that attack social injustices. And most of all, anger that any sexuality other than heterosexuality is condemned equally by all sectors of our society, regardless of race, religion, nationality, class or gender. My films are my weapon, it's what I know best."
"Coming Out Under Fire" was my first major film to probe the hypocrisy of our heterosexual-oriented society. Based on the book by Allan Bérubé, it documented the World War II origins of the military's anti-gay "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Working on the film, I learned how a branch of government, without consent from the governed, officially sanctioned the discrimination of an entire class of citizens by creating a policy that branded homosexuals as mentally ill and unfit to serve. I learned that subjective personal views were sufficient grounds to relegate an entire community into second-class citizenship, as the military did when gay soldiers were stripped of all rights, discharged, and shipped back to their hometowns -- stigmatized forever as sexual perverts.
Above all, I realized the power held by public servants and how their prejudices could lead to devastating consequences for the individual lives they were charged to protect.
Coincidentally, as we began production on our film in January 1993, President Clinton proclaimed that he would lift the ban on gays in the military. The ensuing public debate brought the issue of homosexuality openly into the halls of Congress, and created unprecedented media headlines. Untruths spewed from politicians, ordinary citizens, and religious and community leaders alike. Suddenly it seemed as though everyone who disapproved of homosexuality felt free to unburden himself; it was open season.
This was the first time I truly understood that achieving equal footing with heterosexuals would be an uphill battle -- not only in the military, but in all the institutions that govern our daily lives. This realization was reaffirmed by the evidence that our government did not learn from the history of World War II and was blatantly perpetuating the military's distorted views a hundredfold. More detrimental than before, these ideas were being transmitted without limits to the mass public as certified fact, via modern media technology.
It was no surprise, then, that incidents of anti-gay violence saw a dramatic increase across the nation immediately after the military controversy, and continue to escalate as I write this essay.
As for myself, my first of two gay-bashing experiences occurred in 1977. My initial thought was, "Why me?" This quickly grew into the larger question: "Why does this happen at all?"
It took me 20 years to find a way to explore this inquiry: I would go to prisons and visit killers who have been convicted of murdering gay men. I would ask them directly: "Why did you do it?" This formed the basis for my film "Licensed to Kill."
As I set out to meet these prisoners, to discover what these men were made of, I did not find misfits, outcasts, fanatics or lunatics. Instead, I found a deeply disturbing reflection of American society. I saw that while individuals are responsible for their actions, individual minds can also be nurtured and molded by social conditioning.
One killer told me he was taught by his junior high school librarian that homosexuality was wrong. Another inmate recalled how he was told that gay men were weak, and that "you could take theirs and they wouldn't put up a fight." A third murderer claimed that the Bible preaches that homosexuality was a sin worthy of death, and if that's what the Bible says, it must be true. He remembers: "They were trying to sink into our heads then when we were kids that what's written in the Bible is right."
What they represented was not the freedom and liberty that America so proudly parades. On the contrary, they illustrated the deterioration of human values to a point where respect was no longer a virtue, where moral standards were set by charismatic, powerful leaders determined to impose their deep-seated, intolerant dogma on all Americans. For these leaders -- be they national figures or small-town teachers and those in-between -- there is no compromise on moral authority.
If I could go back to the day when that student asked me to discuss the motivation for my films, I would add: "As I work on each of my projects, I find that there is much still to be done to create a world in which I can be a proud citizen. And if anger is what pushes me forward, I hope that compassion is what comes forth."
[Arthur Dong is a Peabody Award-winning independent filmmaker. His work includes "Licensed To Kill," nominated for an Emmy this year; "Coming Out Under Fire"; "Forbidden City, U.S.A." and the Oscar-nominated "Sewing Woman." This essay is taken from the book "Hostile Climate 1999: A Report on Anti-Gay Activity," published in November by People For the American Way Foundation. For more information on Arthur Dong, visit his website at http://www.deepfocusproductions.com. For information on "Hostile Climate," visit http://www.HostileClimate.org.]