My Mumbai Mirror column:
Two films set in taxis -- one a 2019 documentary, the other a cult
classic from thirty years ago -- offer a great ride through a bumpy
world.
| A still from Philipp Majer's 2019 documentary World Taxi |
Each segment offers insights into a
particular part of the world, but also into the world of cab drivers
everywhere.
“Your taxi is like your second wife,”
says Tony, who drives a cab in Bangkok, Thailand. “If you don't
take care them, they not going to take care you.” Majer doesn't
link Tony's metaphorical comment up with it, but Mamadiou – the
taxi driver he films in Dakar, Senegal – is actually thinking of
getting a second wife. In one incredible sequence, Mamadiou actually
mentions this flirtatiously with a carload of female passengers,
suggesting that he might be interested in marrying the younger woman
present. This leads into a full-fledged discussion, with gendered
home truths flying right, left and centre. “If she [the first wife]
senses that I am wooing another one, she might come back to normal,”
says Mamadiou. “How will she sense it, though?” says one of the
older women. “Some men have a bit on the side without the woman
noticing.” “Ah, then the woman lacks intuition,” says the
younger woman.
Connections also emerge between
unexpected countries – like the USA and Kosovo, a much smaller
territory that only declared its independence from Serbia in February
2008. Despite the vast gulf in their histories of democracy and
economic status, health in both places appears to be a thing that
people can't afford to pay for. In recently war-torn Kosovo, cab
driver Destan Mjeqiki keeps a file full of newspaper cuttings of
natural home remedies as possibilities “for people who don't have
money”. Meanwhile, the cab driver Sergio in El Paso, Texas,
operates in an economy where middle class people have no health
insurance, which means they often go across the border to Mexico to
get cheaper medical treatment than they can in their own --
technically much more developed – country.
In an online conversation with Indian
documentary filmmaker Shabani Hassanwalia, Majer said that he was
trying to make a non-fiction version of Jim Jarmusch's 1991 cult film
Night on Earth. Majer's film has plenty of energy, but it's
scattered, and feels almost slight in comparison to Jarmusch's. Other
than Berlin (which gives us the documentary's only female cab driver,
the wonderfully steady Bambi, who must often refuse come-ons from
drunken post-clubbers), Majer shoots in places where the economy and
politics are on some sort of edge. Jarmusch's film is shot entirely
in European and American cities, and in a very different time.
Perhaps 1991 felt as unstable as our own times in some ways, but from
the distance of three decades it appears marvellously stable. Even
the rule-less-ness of that time feels like some quasi-mythical truth:
when the New York native persuades his lost immigrant driver to let
him drive the cab instead, the driver balks and says it's not
allowed. “Yeah, it's allowed,” drawls the passenger. “This is
New York!”
And yet this is already a universe filled with immigrants, people forced to live and work in places a world away from where they grew up. Jarmusch's approach isn't overtly political, and it's certainly not woke in any tick-the-boxes sort of way. Instead, his juxtapositions provoke thought. The Black Brooklyn man, for instance, laughs loudly and long at his East German cab driver because he hears his name – Helmut -- as Helmet. “That's like being called Lampshade,” he guffaws. When Helmut asks him his name, it turns out it's YoYo.
Helmut is a clown – he actually
worked as a clown in Dresden. But bemused as he is, he has something
to teach us about listening. Meanwhile the cab driver who doesn't
listen – Roberto Benigni in the Rome segment, which contains the
broadest comedy of the five – can literally kill off a passenger.
| A still from Jim Jarmusch's 1991 film Night on Earth, with five segments set in five taxis across the world |
As anyone who's taken taxis knows, there are drivers who listen, and others who talk. Sometimes, rarely, they do both, turning taxi rides into that unusual intimate thing: a conversation with a stranger.
Jarmusch's brilliantly written set of vignettes starts with sunset in Los Angeles, where a rather surprised older woman (the unmatchable Gena Rowlands) gets into a cab driven by a rather young Winona Ryder, and learns that it's possible to be perfectly, undisturbably happy with your perfectly ordinary life. In Paris, two pompous Cameroonians learn that mocking your taxi driver, even if he has the same colour of skin as you and you address him as your “little brother”, doesn't serve you well. But also in Paris, the taxi driver learns that being blind isn't the same as not seeing. Conversations with strangers always teach you things – usually about yourself.
Published in Mumbai Mirror, 6 Dec 2020.