interview with fritz ofner

How did you choose the theme for your film "Evolution of Violence"?

Fritz oFner: I first traveled to Guatemala in 1997 and witnessed the civil war's aftermath right after it ended. Only six months had passed, and the scars were still easy to see. I witnessed the mourning and the trauma up close, and for the first time I heard about the connection between the United Fruit Company and bananas, the civil war. The fact that a war is waged because of bananas, or the control of bananas - I just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Then I was in Guatemala again in 2004, and that time it seemed that the trauma caused by the war and this legacy of violence was beginning to take on a life of its own, that the entire society had been militarized, that the violence had penetrated many different areas of life there.

In 2007 I received an offer to work in Guatemala for six months, and at that point I definitely wanted to make a film, though I wasn't sure what it would be about. But when I arrived there, the violence was so omnipresent, and I got caught up in a scene like the one shown in the film, where an angry mob attacks some police officers, then exercises a form of mob justice on men thought to be criminals. After that, making the film represented a personal search to find out what could have caused so much violence. When a crowd believes that violence is the only way they can obtain justice, it represents a low point in a spiral.

When you talk about violence, what levels and different kinds are involved?

Fo: My film proceeds from the assumption that violence in Guatemala was caused by political and economic factors, then took in a life of its own and spread to all areas of life there. During the civil war hundreds of thousands of young men were taught to kill, to rape and to torture. Then all these men returned to civilian life, and many of them had no opportunity to lead a normal existence. And they introduced what they learned, how to use violence, into all areas of their lives, into their family lives, or made use of it in organized crime. The film sticks a finger into an open wound: Violence is the topic in Guatemala, it determines political life, the economy, simply everything - in Guatemala no theme is bigger than violence.

How did you meet and then select the protagonists?

Fo: As I already mentioned, it all began with this scene of mob justice. After that I was certain that contemporary violence involved the violence of the past in some way. Then I tried to contact some people who witnessed the genocide, and with the help of an American friend I visited an indigenous village where a horrible massacre took place in 1982. My arrival was announced over a PA, and the entire village committee got together. I had to introduce myself, and they asked me who I am, what I want, and why I want to hear their stories. From the moment the committee accepted me and gave me a green light for the shoot, the peoples' reactions were incredible. Everybody came to see me and wanted to tell their story about the massacre.

Although the massacre took place almost 30 years ago and nobody was able to bring charges, they never had an opportunity to tell anyone that it really happened. Suddenly, because a foreign filmmaker was there with a camera, there was someone they could tell their story to. It's a story that's suppressed in Guatemala, something no one wants to hear. The political establishment employs all the means available to prevent a search for those responsible, and that the story of the civil war is dealt with, because the guilty parties are still in power. The entire village came to see me, and everybody wanted to tell me about their family members, everybody wanted to say what they had experienced during the war. A great deal of openness and even affection developed between me and the protagonists. I visited this village again and again, until a sufficient amount of trust was built up, and then I shot a lot of material.

Later I did some shooting with journalists after noticing that reporting about murders took up most of the space in newspapers, and they were the most common theme of TV news reports. I approached a broadcaster and asked whether I could ride along with its journalists to document their daily work. My presence was immediately met with a great deal of openness there too, and I was given an opportunity and permission to accompany these journalists with my camera.

This reminded me of what soldiers told me, that the only way to survive or recover psychologically from the horrors of war is through comradeship. Right away I felt that it worked in the same way with these journalists. You're constantly confronted with these extremely traumatic situations, and comradeship within the group is what gets you through it all. I experienced that myself, and I think my film conveys it to a certain extent: This laughter, this joking, that's not cynicism, it's a survival technique for dealing with this difficult-to-deal-with reality.

The social worker is employed by the country's most important organization, which deals with violence done to women and gives them a voice. In Guatemala violence on women is a huge topic, and people speak of femicide. I introduced my project to them and was welcomed immediately - again because my film bears witness. The violence of the civil war is similar to the violence in the country's present: They're both covered up, and aren't dealt with. The justice system doesn't work, and 97 out of 100 murders go unpunished; in other words only 3% of all murderers are convicted. When I visited mothers whose daughters were killed, they welcomed me into their lives in spite of my camera, because I bore witness here too. What happened isn't forgotten when a camera records it, and it reaches an audience—this hope was there the entire time. With this approach I was able to film many scenes that were extremely intimate and sad, because this desire to bear witness had always been there.