Review: Sylvana, demon or diva (2018)
Sylvana, demon or diva (2018)
Directed by: Ingeborg Jansen | 90 minutes | documentary | With: Sylvana Simons
On Sunday, November 18, 2018, about a year after filming started, the documentary ‘Sylvana, demon or diva’ premiered at IDFA. The moment could hardly have been more striking. The day before, at various places in the Netherlands, during peaceful demonstrations by the action group Kick Out Zwarte Piet, physical and verbal violence had been used by pro-Black Peters. The slogan ‘Black Pete is racism’ this year attracted hooligans and neo-Nazis who attacked the demonstrators openly, in view of the police. The day after the premiere, Mark Rutte, Prime Minister of the Netherlands, refused to use the word racism. In fact, he suggested that the KOZP protesters were asos themselves.
One of the most exemplary scenes in ‘Sylvana, Demon of Diva’ (and there are quite a few) is about this naming of racism in the Netherlands. A middle-aged white man, beer in hand, approaches Simons after an election debate. He describes himself as “quite an anti-Black Pete activist”, but finds it difficult that Simons uses the word ‘racism’, because it feels so bad. There must be another way, he says. When Simons explains calmly and clearly that you can’t discuss a problem without naming it, he keeps falling over that one word, ‘racism’. He listens to what Simons says, but the gist doesn’t seem to get through.
However eloquently Simons explains her views and insights, a cognitive dissonance seems to automatically occur in many (white) people. What about the (male, white) journalist who gives Simons a glazed look after she briefly explained her use of the term ‘intersectionality’ in her party program: that for solutions to individual problems you have to look at the connections between those problems. Although the concept is simply explained by Simons, the journalist continues to look at her questioningly. Simons later says that new ways of looking at the world take time to land. If you have never experienced racism (or, for example, sexism) yourself, it can be difficult to admit that it is there.
The documentary thus indicates a state of affairs. This is how it is now, in 2018, in the Netherlands. A valuable period document, but also a portrait of a woman who, reluctantly, has become a symbol for recognition of black people in the Netherlands, after she spoke out on live television against the use of the term ‘blacks’. That was the big turning point, because after that she couldn’t keep still. The impact it has on her life is only partially clear. Some of the hate messages she receives almost daily are read aloud, but other important consequences (such as loss of income) are not explicitly addressed in the documentary.
The reason for the documentary was actually the going to the municipal elections of Amsterdam BIJ1, the party where Simons is the leader. As a result, there is a lot of attention for party meetings, debates, TV appearances and the like, but it is explicitly not a documentary about BIJ1. Everything is filmed with the focus on Sylvana Simons. We see her standing in despair at home by an exploded wardrobe, calling her daughter to please help her clean up. We see her sitting with an organizational coach (who can easily be mistaken for a psychiatrist because his function is not made clear), talking about her insecurities. And we see her responding gratefully to beautiful exclamations amidst all the racist filth that she gets thrown at her by random passers-by. Because luckily there are.
Initially, the title of the documentary seems rather unfortunate, with the choice between demon or diva, but in the end it turns out to be very striking. The terms come from Sylvana Simons herself, but the context is very important here. Simons indicates the tendency of the media to portray her as either a demon or a diva. But, she says, and here lies the crux, both create a distance, while she wants to get closer. So an unfair situation arises if you have to choose between demon or diva, because both are unjust. And that dishonesty symbolizes the situation in which Simons finds herself as a black woman. You can never do it right.
Director Ingeborg Jansen has managed to create an intimate portrait of Simons during a tumultuous period in her life. For those who have an eye for it, the documentary contains a lot of particularly beautiful moments. When Simons is dancing at a family party (i.e. in a familiar environment), when she stands in front of the mirror to make up, when she isolates herself behind an open door on election night, while people in the space behind are celebrating. These are beautiful shots that make the documentary a feast for the eyes, in addition to being extremely socially relevant. Taken as a portrait of a politician, the documentary does not care about content, but taken as a portrait of a black woman fighting for her rights, this has become an unmistakable and indispensable document of the time.
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