Story by Emily Hutto
Photo by Nick Cote
Tat Marina was only sixteen years old and a rising karaoke star in Cambodia. In 1999, she became involved with the country’s Undersecretary of State, Svay Sitha. Both romance and her career fizzled when he locked her alone in a hotel room for two weeks and threatened to harm her family if she left him. When the politician’s wife, Khoun Sophal, heard of her husband’s affair, she stalked Marina through a Phnom Penh marketplace and dowsed her face with a vile of nitric acid. Shoppers and vendors crowded around, watching helplessly as the acid instantly dissolved the skin and bone on her face.
While shooting Bombhunters in Cambodia in 2006, documentary filmmakers Patti Duncan and Skye Fitzgerald discovered the premise of their next film, Finding Face: the emerging prevalence of acid violence worldwide. More and more, people drench their enemies with chemical liquid to permanently disfigure their faces. A study on acid attacks conducted by Afroza Anwary at Minnesota State University in 2003 suggests that this type of cruelty is not exclusive to Cambodia. Instead, it is increasing in countries such as Bangladesh, Pakistan, Ethiopia, and China. Wives throwing acid at their husband’s mistresses and second wives is the most common reason for this type of violence, as reported by the Cambodian League for the Promotion of Human Rights’ Project Against Torture. The 2003 report “Acid Attacks: Living in the Shadows” reveals these angry wives desire to mar the victims’ attractiveness. It states, “The perpetrator [of acid violence] usually does not want to kill the victim, but to do something worse than murder—make them suffer forever.”
Marina’s suffering assumed many forms. That day in the marketplace, the acid ran from her face, scalding more than forty percent of her body. When her wounds became infected, gangrene set in, and doctors had to remove her ears. Marina has undergone twenty-five surgeries in the past ten years to counteract the debilitating effects of the chemical. Through extensive reconstruction surgery, she regained almost full sight. In addition to continued physical affliction, the threat of violence did not end after the attack. The high profile of the perpetrator put the Marina family at risk of further harassment if they pressed charges or even went public with the story. Living in the Shadows reveals, “While some acid throwers have been convicted and sent to prison, others—especially those with power or money—live freely.” Khoun Sophal lives freely.
Regarding Sophal, “I don’t say alleged perpetrator. I say perpetrator,” Fitzgerald declares. There were no disputes among the many witnesses that Sitha’s wife was in fact responsible for Marina’s attack. Fitzgerald would have liked to interview Svay Sitha both for the sake of the story and to satisfy a personal curiosity. He knew, however, that it would be too dangerous to get him involved.
Before the attack, Sitha told Marina that her family would be in danger if she left him. After the story of the attack went public in Cambodia, the risks only intensified. Finding Face’s content remained one-sided.
“I’m not a journalist. I don’t pretend to be a journalist,” Fitzgerald says. He’s sitting in his office chair surrounded by movie posters for Bombhunters and Finding Face. Although traditional and mainstream journalists produce timely, balanced and unbiased material, Duncan and Fitzgerald believe that this is a fruitless way to present narrative. Fitzgerald says, “the fair and balanced definition of good journalism, while I believe in it, is not the only way to tell stories well and truthfully.”
The filmmakers ensured that Marina’s family moved out of the country before premiering their film this year. Confident that Finding Face could not be publicly broadcasted in Cambodia due to government interference, they are quietly seeding, or Internet sharing, the film into the country. With the help of the Voice of America, a multimedia broadcasting company with an international audience of 125 million, they plan to stream the film onto the company’s website in Cambodia’s national language, Khmer. Outlets like these will help to sustain Finding Face past its premiere to spread worldwide awareness of acid violence.
The “long-term, familial” relationships they have formed during filming will also sustain Duncan and Fitzgerald’s passion for their project as it branches into new forms. More research led them to another acid violence victim, Chour Sreya, who plays a minor role in the documentary. Sreya is also blind as a result of an acid attack, and she currently lives in Phnom Phen with her parents, siblings, husband, and daughter in a one-bedroom apartment. “She told us about her desire to live more independently,” says Duncan. “Knowing how much she wants this, we embarked on a fundraising campaign, telling our community about her and requesting donations.”
Sreya, her husband, and daughter will soon move into a new apartment using the funds that Duncan and Skye helped to collect. Her new independent status reflects their deep bond, nurtured by the filmmakers’ frequent trips to Cambodia during the past three years. Duncan and Fitzgerald attended Sreya’s wedding. They even became her daughter’s godparents and selected the baby’s name, Rachana, the Cambodian name for “precious gem.”
Fitzgerald, an avid cyclist, crosses one Mion biking shoe over the other before he explains the rationale behind the name Spin Film. He and Duncan subscribe to a filmmaking ideology that they call “sustainable revolution.” It requires getting close to subjects, choosing a particular angle and taking their sweet time to do so. Their lengthy production process fosters their commitment to their projects and provides new means of spreading their messages. In essence, documentary filmmaking is like riding a bike. It requires finding your own rhythm.
Finding Face’s slow and steady rhythm gives Marina and Sreya a vehicle with which to share their stories safely. They speak on behalf of all acid violence victims, and they’ve found strength in the process. Garrett Russell, staff editor at Spin Film, chimes in from across the office, its sky-blue walls covered in tribal masks. “Spin Film is designed simply to give a voice to people who have been underrepresented,” he says. “Skye lets them be heard.”
Categories:
Facing Violence Through Film
January 25, 2010
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