Search

Analysis of questions related to late 20th-century urban geographies (the onscreen depiction of bodies - both individual and collective, and, crucially, female - as socially significant spaces; and an individual experience of exile and its in-between spaces) as they emerge in Marjane Satrapi's film Persepolis.

In the decades following the end of World War II, David Niven's onscreen Englishness frequently found itself defined against a French backdrop, his star persona firmly embedded within a complex framework of Anglo-French cinematic and cultural exchanges. At a time when both countries were coming to terms with the legacy of the war and its impact on national and gender identities, whilst simultaneously adapting to the dismantling of their respective colonial empires, Niven's onscreen persona offered an outlet for "a paradoxical desire for both stability and change," (Plain 2006: 140) coupled with a parallel expression of nostalgia and anxiety. Niven achieves this through his depiction of, and indeed reliance upon, the "hegemonic form of the debonair gentleman" (Spicer 2003: 7) in a series of roles from 1950 onwards: Sir Percy Blakeney in The Elusive Pimpernel (Powell and Pressburger, 1950), Sir James Bond, brought out of retirement in the spy spoof Casino Royale (Hughes, Huston et al, 1967), and Sir Charles Litton in the Pink Panther series (1963-83) alongside Peter Sellers' bumbling Inspector Clouseau. Each of these roles sees Niven embodying "the perfect gentleman, the male ideal of the British ruling classes" (Spicer 2003: 8), yet transposed to the French Riviera, to the streets of Paris, or to the snowy backdrop of the Alps. Alongside analysis of Niven's roles in these works, attention will also be paid to two films which see Niven taking on a central role in an adaptation of a French literary text, firstly as Raymond in Bonjour Tristesse (Preminger, 1958) and secondly as Phileas Fogg in Around the World in 80 Days (Anderson, 1956), further illustrating the extent to which his star persona is anchored within a complex network of Anglo-French cultural exchanges. It will be the contention of this chapter that this cross-channel displacement of Niven's national identity allows for the development of an unusual form of onscreen solidarity through an Anglo-French cinematic negotiation of "postwar male restlessness" (Francis 2007: 164), perceived economic and political decline on both sides of the Channel, and the trauma of decolonisation.

Young Beurs are pulled apart by two opposing forces: family obligations and Maghrebian traditions lie at one pole and at the other are the social institutions of France. These "two spheres of reference are stacked together [...] but do not speak the same language and are often problematic." A crucial primary site and source of conflict which emerges in banlieue film arises across generations, generally within a family context, either between children and parents, or between children and grandparents. This conflict is often particularly marked verbally, especially in earlier banlieue films, by the use of two languages (typically standard French and Arabic), with the latter sometimes, but not always, subtitled into French. Although the above quote makes explicit reference to the situation faced by younger generation beurs, they are, by no means, alone in their struggle between what Begag and Chaouite have termed 'double identity magnets'. Rather, through close analysis of the use of language in Thomas Gilou's Raï, released in 1995 as part of the first wave of banlieue films, this article will examine whether this notion fully encapsulates the struggle depicted onscreen, and will demonstrate that these 'identity magnets' in fact have a transgenerational impact. The article will focus, first, on the parallel onscreen use of French and Arabic, particularly between the two male central characters, Nordine and Djamel, and their mother. The second half of the article will then shift its attention to an analysis of what, following Begag and Chaouite, we will term 'verbal spheres of reference' linguistically contained within the French language, but with resonances that span cultures. We will agree, to an extent, with Tarr (2005) that Raï, while bringing to the forefront the specific problems faced by 'second/third generation immigrants' of Maghrebi origin, 'does so in a way which, however unintentionally, plays into racist stereotypes of an alien immigrant culture spawning an irresponsible, violent youth culture.' However, we will also argue that an analysis of the intergenerational verbal conflicts in the film nevertheless maintains an important role to play in an understanding of the complexities of ethnic identities as they are challenged and renegotiated through the medium of banlieue film. Ultimately, it will be argued that, while the notion of 'double identity magnets' does serve to encapsulate the dilemma of a search for self within a broader framework of conflicting and opposing identities, the limitations of the implicit binary (double identity magnet) fail to do justice to the complexities of the identities under construction. Rather, as we see here in Raï, and can see examples of in other banlieue films, Begag and Chaouite's 'spheres of reference' encompass at once a 'homeland' (mythical or mythologized), a somewhat rigid contemporary French metropolitan republican framework, and the specificities of individual subjectivities emerging against an intrinsically multiethnic backdrop, schematically divided between 'traditional' home and 'modern' public space, but in fact demonstrating a far more pluralist reality than the republican model is yet ready to admit.

The absence of figures of paternal authority from the diegetic space of most banlieue films has been commented on by critics and scholars alike over the past decade. The relationship between this cast of predominantly male urban characters and their mothers has, however, less frequently been the focus of analysis. It is this mother-child (and primarily mother-son) relationship which will be examined in this paper, examining the simultaneous sacralisation and vilification of the maternal figure which emerges onscreen. This analysis is particularly relevant given the renewed focus on the concept of ‘filiation’ in contemporary French sociopolitical debate, highlighted by the work of sociologist Eric Fassin. Fassin sees this trend emerging initially from debates regarding the evolution of family structures in contemporary France, which have their origin in discussions surrounding same-sex unions. However, he also underlines the ways in which the centrality of filiation and filial relationships resonates across debates on ethnic, gendered, and sexual identities in the metropolitan French context. Taking banlieue cinema as a cultural site in which these three strands of identity come into contact – and often conflict – this paper will examine the depiction of the maternal figure and the filial relationship in a small selection of key banlieue films. The paper will demonstrate the ways in which these banlieue mothers often represent diverse spheres of cultural and national reference but will argue against the oft-presented reductive reading which sees them primarily as traditional figures confined to a domestic setting. Particular attention will be paid to the ways in which the ‘nique ta mère’ insult – and others based on the same model – illustrates the complexity of the maternal role in banlieue film, at once vilifying and sacralising both the mother and the filial relationship.

1996 saw the publication of Frédéric Martel’s Le Rose et le noir, a comprehensive study of three decades of gay life in metropolitan France. The predominantly anti-communitarian stance adopted by Martel in the epilogue to the first edition of his work had evolved, by the time of the book’s publication en poche in 2000, into a more nuanced view of the interactions and intersections between queer and republican identities in contemporary France. This development was influenced, in large part, by concrete changes which took place over the second half of the 1990s, centring around the introduction of the PACS in 1999, and leading to an ever-broadening debate. This paper will begin by setting forth the ways in which Martel’s position changed and analysing the attitudinal, social, and legislative backdrop which paved the way for such a change to occur. It will then bring Martel’s work into a dialogue with the writings of Eric Fassin and Maxime Foerster, both of whom have, like Martel, offered crucial analyses of the place of queer citizens within the contemporary French republic. Particular attention will first be paid to the ways in which Fassin, in his writings, has underlined the salience of the ‘droit du sol/droit du sang’ debate, traditionally associated with questions of ethnic belonging, in light of public and political discussions revolving around questions of queer kinship raised by the introduction of the PACS. This will lead into an examination of Foerster’s assertion that gay citizens of the Republic, in the era of the PACS, find themselves in a role previously held by women, in other words, as elements that require integration within a republican model. Foerster argues that this requirement to integrate is indicative of the fact that the traditional republican claim that the citizen is a blank canvas is at best misguided, and, at worst, has been deliberately subverted. This paper will examine the manner in which Martel and Fassin’s observations can be used to further strengthen the points raised by Foerster, concluding with the latter that a true engagement with the issues raised by debates around queer citizenship over the past decade can, in fact, allow the contemporary republican citizen to ‘devenir ceux [qu’il] est’. In other words, the article will conclude that the potential impact of the PACS legislation and the broader discussions it has provoked could be a renegotiation of the relationship between queer citizens and the republic.