What happens to cinematic neorealism when the Hollywoodization that the genre once rebelled against starts to infiltrate contemporary social realities? Call it postmodernism’s influence; just please don’t start calling it post-neorealism (or any other name that lumps prefix upon prefix). While neorealist films occasionally nodded to the heightened dramatics of Hollywood — for instance, De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves featured a poster for the now classic studio B-movie Gilda — the filmmakers did so as a matter of contrast: the glamorous life versus the gritty portrait of the man in the street. Yet with the globalization of and increased access to information, the once distant specter of Hollywood now inhabits homes and pockets around the globe and, to a certain extent, across the class spectrum. Although the cultural behemoth of American media looms large over every corner of the world, that should not prevent filmmakers from maintaining a critical stance while acknowledging its impact.
Jean-Stéphane Sauvaire’s Johnny Mad Dog, adapted from the novel by Congolese ex-patriot Emmanuel Dongola, does just that by reinterpreting the neorealist tradition in a story of child soldiers in civil war-torn Africa. Johnny Mad Dog (Christopher Minie) is a child soldier on the rise through the ranks of his platoon. Kidnapped and systematically brainwashed, he believes himself to be an invincible warrior fighting for a just cause. Laokole (Daisy Victoria Vandy) is a young Christian girl trying to care for her little brother and amputee father in Monrovia, Liberia. As Johnny leads a platoon of pint-sized assassins into the capital city, he encounters Laokole and her brother. Although trained to kill nearly everyone he finds (they could be enemy spies), he spares them. This minor act sparks a novel awakening, the value of human life. At the same time, as Laokole watches the war take her family, she starts to question the Christian notion of forgiveness.
True to the neorealist tradition, Sauvaire casts his film with non-professionals. Sauvaire does not endeavor to tell a strict or coherent narrative, but merely to follow his subjects through their daily lives. Of course, the everyday existence for most of the characters involves killing, looting, and raping. Despite this, Sauvaire manages to pull off the two-fold task of explaining the politics behind the situation and at the same time presenting an important psychological truth. The divisions within this society amount to a mixture of tribal conflicts and material inequality. And the soldiers “enlisted” to fight for these causes are at heart just kids. In a brilliant sequence, one of the younger soldiers — who we have seen terrorize and murder — pouts and sulks when Johnny shoots his pig (which he confiscated at gunpoint from an accused looter) much in the way a child would if you broke his favorite toy. Johnny also seems to want to act the way typical rebellious teenagers do, smoking pot and chasing girls.
Despite the underlying authenticity of the film, it’s the postmodern synthesis and refutation of the Hollywood action genre that offer a unique perspective from that of an international news page. When the soldiers find an uzi, one of them explains that it is an Israeli weapon used by Chuck Norris in The Delta Force, then warns the others to be careful because Chuck might be lurking around the corner. The kids themselves embody a literal pastiche, stealing clothes from the villages they pillage and raid, regardless of their meaning, most evident in the opening sequence when a soldier puts on a bridal gown. In a sense, these are kids playing dress-up in a game of war, yet at the same time, the consequences here are all too real. The sequence in which the rebels assault a news station comes across as an ironic warning towards the power of projected media images; in attacking the station, they live up to the reputation they seek to (literally) destroy. At the same time, the soldiers seek to imitate the super-soldiers that have been instilled in their minds by both their militant superiors and action movie stereotypes. Ultimately, in removing the wedding dress from his comrade and giving it to a girl he likes, Johnny seeks to undo the distortion of images and restore symbolic meanings; he later mourns the girl’s death, restoring his own capability for human compassion.
