I write this as the 2024 election continues to unleash itself upon the American populace with both North Carolina and Georgia being called for Trump (it is 10:14p PT, November 4, 2024 as I begin feverishly typing this), my mind keeps wandering to Jiří Trnka’s 1965 film ‘The Hand’ which is a rather apt film about how totalitarianism and nationalism are absolutely crushing on the human soul and creative spirit.
Trnka’s film mixes puppetry with an omnipresent live-action hand that. (Side note: if this hand imagery served as the inspiration for the main antagonist in the Super Smash Bros game series, I would not be surprised.)
The main character, a simple Harlequin, seeks only to create flower pots for his plants – an autonomy that the hand violently rejects. The short film then revolves around the antagonistic relationship between harlequin and hand, artist and authoritarian, person and state as the two characters express their respective values and drastic differences in power dynamics.
“The Hand” is not subtle about the oppressive and fascistic nature of authoritarianism, nor does it shy away from criticizing the dangers of extreme nationalism and sovereignty to the state over the creative freedom and rights of individuals simply trying to live their lives. The short’s symbology of hands, medals, accolades, and cages directly criticizes the very notion of extreme nationalism.
Yet, in the face of this fascism, the harlequin courageously fights back at the hand, refusing to create what it demands except under the most extreme circumstances (read: coercion, torture, and imprisonment). Even under extreme circumstances, the harlequin finds a way to escape, eventually dying in the comfort of his home.
When the hand discovers a deceased harlequin, it effectively rewrites the harlequin’s life story: instead of being remembered as a anarchic sculptor and botanist that fought and died against artistic censorship and forced labor, the hand creates a funeral procession that effectively whitewashes the harlequin’s anti-authoritarianism leanings, painting its face free of abuse with make-up and bejeweling its coffin with accolades, flowers, and a procession it deems fit and nationalistically appropriate.
Gone are any signs of state-level abuse and torture of what it deemed a threat to national security, present now are the pretense of remembering and embracing an artist and plant enthusiast as ‘a good citizen’.
I muse upon the inherent power dynamic of the hand versus harlequin because it extends not only between the heartbreaking difference between state- versus individual-level power, but also in how there is an inherent power differential and dynamic in how stories and histories are rewritten. In the current political context of America, we bear witness to the constant re-writing of political narratives and speeches by talking heads telling us ‘the real intent’ and ‘real story’ behind what something has been said or done before us.
The power of narratives headed by political and capitalist leaders never ceases to impress with how many times they are rewritten to assure us that they have our best interests at hand when their legislative and business practices say otherwise. (See: Roe v. Wade, Citizens United, Twitter.) This is all to say that I fear “The Hand”, even as a nearly 60 year film, is still as relevant today.
I now end this at 10:54 PT where a convicted felon is more than likely to win the White House again.
No matter who the hand may be, I choose to be the harlequin.