Marianne Hougen-Moraga has directed a number of short documentaries including “Returned” (2011), which premiered at CPH:DOX, and “Sea of Sorrow – Sea of Hope” (2017), which was nominated for a Danish Robert Award for best short documentary. “Songs of Repression” is her feature doc debut.
“Songs of Repression” is screening at the 2020 DOC NYC film festival, which is taking place online from November 11-19. The film is co-directed by Estephan Wagner.
W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.
MHM: In “Songs of Repression” we come intimately close to the inhabitants of a German colony — formerly known as Colonia Dignidad – in Chile. For over 40 years, the colony was a fundamentalist, evangelical sect where systematic sexual child abuse, brutal beatings, and torture were an everyday practice. When the colony’s leader left, the remaining residents turned the place into a tourist resort where you can enjoy German food, go hiking in the astonishing nature, and enjoy a swim in the pool.
By taking as the point of departure this small community and its inhabitants today, the film not only portrays them and their current situation, but it also reflects on a broader scale the traumatic consequences of totalitarian regimes and how the systems are repeated after the regimes have supposedly ended.
In the end, it is a film that through the proximity to the participants and the place, explores how fascism is created and how the lack of a reconciliation process can create new repressive systems that can again lead to fascism.
W&H: What drew you to this story?
MHM: The connection between trauma and political situations has been a recurring interest in my film work. With this film, it is relevant to talk about my background, but also that of my co-director and husband, Estephan Wagner. Our different perspectives and personal histories were what made us decide to make this film and the reason for getting the access that we got.
I grew up in Denmark with my mother, who was in exile from the Chilean military dictatorship led by Augusto Pinochet. I sometimes heard her talking with other people about Colonia Dignidad, but it was only whisperings that one should never go near that place because political prisoners had disappeared in there. Later on in my late teenage years, when I visited my family who lives close to the colony, the answer about the place was still the same.
Estephan, on the other hand, grew up visiting the colony’s restaurant every summer break on the way to his family’s country house. He would only hear positive things about it. No one chooses where they are born and grow up and as a young adult, Estephan started creating his own ideas about Colonia Dignidad.
When we met we had already explored the world and we both had a more nuanced picture of the colony. However, our different backgrounds gave us the possibility to exploring the place and its history in depth, but at the same time step back, observe, and reflect from a distance. We saw it as a must for us to make a film there because our different backgrounds melded together in the colony’s micro-cosmos and reflected two sides of Chile, which still exist — the very strong division between left and right.
W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?
MHM: It is a film that has many layers and it shows many human nuances in each participant. There are no black and white answers. I’m hoping that the audience will reflect the film into their own lives and societies and take their time to consider how we can end up in systems that lead us to execute violence and repression on both a psychological and physical level.
The colony reflects Chile, but also so many other places in the world, both post-totalitarian regimes like Russia or several Eastern European countries, but also countries like the U.S. that, with their increasing polarization, are rapidly incorporating policies known from totalitarian regimes.
On a personal level, we often live in our small bubbles and social media like Facebook and Twitter enhance these bubbles because we talk to the people that are of the same opinion as ourselves. We need to be aware that these bubbles can exclude us from nursing our critical abilities and therefore add to the risk of ending up in new totalitarian regimes where critical stands are not a possibility.
W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?
MHM: In this film we have tried to register and create a complex picture of human beings and thus there are none that are only good or bad. When watching films, most of us have learned to identify with a good character, wishing the best for her/him while hoping that the bad character will lose his/her battle.
“Songs of Repression” reflects a reality in which none of us are only good or bad people. This is of course challenging for an audience to watch and process. But while making the film, it was also important for us as filmmakers to every now and then remind each other of these nuances. It was important for us to not fall into the trap of portraying the participants as pure victims of Colonia Dignidad leader Paul Schäfer’s regime, and thus making everything his fault alone.
W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.
MHM: The film is produced by Signe Byrge Sørensen and Heidi Elise Christensen from Final Cut for Real in Denmark, so the main funding comes from Denmark. It is co-produced by Marleen Slot from Viking Films in the Netherlands. With the funding from these two countries and some funding from the E.U. we managed to make the film.
While filming, it was only Estephan and me on location. This of course kept the expenses during filming lower than if we had been a big crew. On the other hand, we spent a lot of time filming, so in that regard there was not much to save financially.
The film is still not fully funded and we still have — together with Final Cut for Real — self-invested quite a bit. We’re hoping for distribution deals in the U.S. and also in other parts of the world that will then cover some of the investment that we have made. Making documentaries like this one is driven by passion and not by financial gain.
W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?
MHM: I think the inspiration has come from always loving to tell and hear stories, and at the same time growing up with an increasing knowledge about inequality in the world. With my mother, we would send cassette tapes back and forth between my family in Chile and us in Denmark. We couldn’t go there because of the military dictatorship that ruled at the time. Every time we had to make a tape, it was like making a story from real life, and when we received one, it was like hearing a story from real life. Sometimes we could hear the military’s helicopters flying over my family’s house — we could somehow hear the fear in their voices, but we could not do anything but listen and answer back through tapes and letters.
My mother at the same time loved cinema. She would take me to matinees as often as possible since I was very small. The combination of wanting to shed light on inequalities in the world and the fascination of storytelling and the moving image made me find that documentary filmmaking was the right profession for me to pursue.
W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?
MHM: The best is probably that I should not be afraid of making mistakes through the process of filmmaking. It is through the mistakes that I learn. And one piece of advice that I did not hear from a person, but which I read on a paper hanging on the wall at Final Cut for Real — where all the producers are women, by the way — is a reference from Pippi Longstocking: “I haven’t tried this before, so I can make it!” This is my mantra when making films. In every film project that I make, there is always something new, challenging, and unknown to discover and overcome.
The worst advice is something that came up a few times when I was still studying and some very experienced elderly male filmmakers told me exactly how one makes films, as if there is only one way and that is their way. Their way didn’t work for me.
W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?
MHM: Believe in and listen to your intuition.
W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.
MHM: It is difficult to name one as I have many that all vary in why they are valuable to me. I would love to mention more than one. One that stands out is “The Gleaners and I” by Agnès Varda, for her associative and subtle approach to the concept of gleaning and all the existential questions she raises through it.
W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Are you keeping creative, and if so, how?
MHM: COVID-19 has not affected Denmark as severely as other parts of the world, so life is almost normal here. It is slightly more difficult with access and getting close to people now that the virus sometimes inhibits us from meeting in the same room and/or planning bigger events, but I’m trying to adjust to that by being patient.
W&H: Recent protests in the U.S. and abroad have highlighted racism and anti-Black police brutality. The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen and behind the scenes and reinforcing — and creating — negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make Hollywood and/or the doc world more inclusive?
MHM: I think that continuous open dialogue about the challenges that we face in this matter is really important. If we all make an effort to be open-minded and let openness about opinion and approach be an obvious part of conversations and work in the industry, it will hopefully become a more inclusive industry and create space for new, innovative film languages.
I think we need to create space for more films that show nuanced perspectives on how we are as human beings. It is only by avoiding a very black and white picture of people and societies that we can also avoid racism and exclusion of certain views. Inclusion and embracing different perspectives is the way forward in filmmaking so that we can maintain a critical eye on our world and make more interesting films.
