Sunday 20th July 2025
Blog Page 946

What Labour can learn from Tony Blair

Aimee Reynolds
-
0
What Labour can learn from Tony Blair

Tony Blair has recently announced that he is returning to politics. Personally, I’m very excited. It’s a bit like hearing that Bobby Charlton is returning to the England team, if the England team was a morally corrupt political elite and Bobby Charlton was the least popular man ever. Much like with football, Tony Blair is known for being disappointing, wealthy beyond belief and starting fights that seem inexplicable and pointless. Unlike football, he and the Labour Party are no longer successful in the north of England, where UKIP remain solid in the polls, and yet Liverpool seem quite good.

It is possible that Tony Blair’s return could trigger some important debates about British politics. Jeremy Corbyn is 5’10, Gordon Brown and Ed Milliband are both 5’11. Tony Blair is 6’. Have the last three Labour leaders’ failure to break the six-foot barrier prevented them from seizing the political initiative? It certainly seems that way. On the other side of the dispatch box, David Cameron is 6’1 and Lord Salisbury was taller still. Height doesn’t seem to have been a problem for Teresa May, but then again she is still yet to win an election.

Perhaps the Labour party is therefore less like football, and a lot more like basketball. There is very little appetite for either in the UK at the moment, but it seems that height is a key attribute in both.

Aside from touring the country, shooting hoops in some key marginal constituencies in the name of a soft Brexit, there is very little that Tony Blair can do to convince voters that he still has anything to offer. But the party spin doctors that Jeremy Corbyn has kept gagged and locked in his cellar should take note. The day will no doubt come when the Labour Party goes looking for someone who may actually lead them to electoral victory. Third Way politics may be no more than a distant memory, but this is not the only thing that Blair brought to the table.

Quiet entreaties should be made to appoint four time Olympic gold medal winner in women’s basketball Lisa Leslie as Labour’s next leader. At 6’5,with a masters in business administration and a former contestant on The New Celebrity Apprentice USA (hosted by Arnold Schwarzenegger, not You-Know-Who), there doesn’t seem to be anyone better qualified for the job.

Spotlight: Basic Space

Natalia Bus
-
0
Spotlight: Basic Space

Basic Space are an Oxford-based duo creating music perfect for lazy Sunday mornings or ruminative late night walks. Daniel Keane’s soft vocals fuse with Benjamin Lock’s gentle piano for a quiet yet memorable rendering of jazz fusion and electronica.

‘Driving Nowhere’ sees a set of punctuated piano chords accompany Keane’s rich tones until a low beat propels the track to a relaxing fade.

Their latest release, ‘Airports’, starts off as a more acoustic venture, slowly building to a layering of sounds complete with a subtle flugelhorn section in the background. As Keane begins “You dropped me at terminal five / It was all pain in my eyes”, the subtle bass sets the scene of painful farewell.

Basic Space have so far only four releases under their belt (all of which can be found on their Soundcloud page), including a witsful cover of the 1937 Richard Rodgers and Lorenzo Hart musical hit, ‘My Funny Valentine’. But coming off an impressive performance at Gin & Phonics last term, the genre-spanning duo appear all set for a bright future.

If Keane’s warm, subdued tones don’t leave you wanting more, I don’t know what will.

Why Oxford should resist the NSS

Lily MacTaggart
-
0
Why Oxford should resist the NSS

For students from working class backgrounds, hundreds of things about university can be off-putting. A huge factor however has to be having a large headline cost figure, which is always described as debt. Ultimately this makes university a terrifying financial prospect for many, even if the reality of how fees are paid is more manageable. The impact of this exclusion on social mobility is catastrophic in the job market which currently exists, where higher paid and socially valued work is often accessible only with a degree.

Last year’s Teaching Excellence Framework (TEF) is only going to make this problem worse. The TEF was originally proposed as a counter-balance to the heavily research based league tables, which can be an untrue reflection of student experience. This sounds like a good idea, until you look a little closer at exactly how the TEF works.

It is based partly on the NSS scores a university receives, and the employment statistics of graduates. Neither of these are a particularly good measure of teaching quality—various studies have shown the NSS can be skewed. This is through unconscious bias against women lecturers and lecturers of colour, as well as the fact that what makes a good lecturer may not be what makes you want to rate a lecturer highly on an anonymous survey. Employment statistics income bias the TEF towards universities with a highly rated “brand”—Oxford being one of them. As a result, the quality of teaching at a university has little to do with how it will score in the TEF.

But even if the TEF was a foolproof measure of the quality of teaching in universities, it is how the TEF is being used which is the really awful news for higher education. Because now, performance in the TEF will determine whether universities can raise their fees in line with inflation. After a few years, this means “elite” institutions like Oxford will end up costing much more than other universities.

As a student, already worried about money, the thought of applying to more ambitious and more expensive university is doubly off-putting, and fewer people from working class and low income backgrounds are likely to risk applying to “better” universities. The impact on social mobility is only going to get worse, and the increase in fees goes on whilst at university, because they can go up during your degree. Oxford has already confirmed that this will happen for current first years (no other years though, thanks to the hard work of OUSU sabbatical officers).

Higher education should be accessible to all and must lose its elitism. Part of losing this elitism has to come from an end to prioritising higher education over other paths in life, such as apprenticeships. But these don’t need to come at the cost of higher education. We need to build a society that cares for everyone’s development, and if money wasn’t wasted on arms subsidies and taxes for the rich weren’t cut, that would look a lot more possible—ultimately it is possible, as multiple European countries prove.

What can be done to defend our universities? Firstly, if you are a finalist, boycott the NSS. Do not fill it in. If it gets under 50 per cent response rate, it is invalid and the government cannot use it in the TEF. Get your JCR to pass a motion condemning the TEF, and action your OUSU representatives to vote in line with this. Like the ‘Free Education Oxford’ page on Facebook, and come along to our events. Lobby your MPs, in Oxford or at home. Above all, keep spreading the word and speaking out about the very dangerous future that awaits higher education.

Courting Controversy: against conservative callousness

Daniel Kodsi
-
0
Courting Controversy: against conservative callousness

This past weekend was the last before Donald Trump ascends to the Presidency of the United States—and this is horrific.

It is easy to pretend it is not. As best I can tell, the world has yet to literally cave in on us. But as is so often the case, reality is deceptive. Things seem normal, but they are not. The Republican Party, with a narcissistic buffoon at its helm, is about to take control of the unified federal government, a proposition which should be terrifying for every decent person.

I am often struck by the phenomenon of normalisation, which is a phrase I would like to despise but am unable to; I suppose the punditry cannot help but hitting on a concept of value every so often, just as a broken clock is occasionally able to correctly mark the time. While I am not so sure that the digital chattering class is right about the process of normalisation, it seems undeniably true that certain things which are clearly very bad are not treated as such by virtue of being normal. Climate change appears to be one such phenomenon; eating meat is probably another. Treating Donald Trump as if he were a normal President or the Republican Party as if it were a normal political party would be a third.

I do not intend to be outrageous by saying this. Although something tells me others might disagree, I do not even believe my position here should be considered controversial. It is not that I deny that liberals (including—no, especially!—myself) believe things which are wrong, even dangerously wrong. I don’t know, or pretend to know, who is right about the tax code (although I suspect a flat tax would be disastrously bad) or the minimum wage. I have strong views on public education and social security, but am willing to cede that these are legitimate points of contention. But on so much else, I think that the political positions of the incoming administration are morally repulsive—and that there is no way to claim a moral equivalency between liberalism and contemporary conservatism.

No liberal view comes close to the heinousness of the conservative positions on health care, the death penalty, the penal system, gun control, the Syrian refugee crisis, and climate change. The conservative movement in America today is characterised by a deep callousness towards the value of human life. Conservatives like to describe themselves as ‘pro-life’, in reference to their position on abortion, but this belief in the sanctity of life is nowhere to be found in the current conservative agenda. Tens of millions will spend years in prison—their liberty and dignity stripped away—if criminal justice is not reformed; people might literally die, and will undoubtedly suffer, if the Affordable Care Act is repealed without replacement. Others certainly will if firearms regulation is not passed or the federal government continues to turn away the persecuted refugees of civil war. Again, there are lives in the balance if the United States fails to act on climate change (as well as economic catastrophe).

And I simply don’t understand how any of this is conscionable. I believe that most people are basically good people and vote in accordance with their conception of what would be best for their country. But I fail to comprehend how there can be any sufficiently good reason for handing control of the full coercive apparatus of the federal government to a party committed to erasing all its most valuable functions. I am not sure I could explain, if asked, the value of human dignity—poetry and literature are probably better vehicles for such an endeavour than a 750-word newspaper column—but I would also find the question perplexing. It just seems self-evidently true: that people deserve to be happy and don’t deserve to suffer, no matter who they are. Somewhere along the way, the Republican Party appears to have forgotten this, and the rest of us behaved as if it were an acceptable thing to forget. I don’t know if I could easily recall any ‘serious’ journalist actually explicitly stating over the course of this election that human life matters, and matters in itself. It sounds like something which is said very often, but it isn’t—even though it really should be.

In any case, Donald Trump will be inaugurated in four days, and within a couple months, once he has appointed a new Supreme Court justice, conservatives will have completed their coup of Washington DC. Liberals will have to work with the new administration: obstructionism isn’t an option because unlike conservatives, we need the government to perform its obligations. But even if we have to work with Trump and his cronies, we must not and cannot pretend they are acceptable.

Cocktail of the week: raspberry basil highball

Sam Purnell
-
0
Cocktail of the week: raspberry basil highball

Coming back to Oxford after the festive season, many of us will have overindulged on stodgy food and copious amounts of alcohol. Pairing this with the usual New Year’s resolutions of dieting and giving up drink, we thought it would be worthwhile to start this weekly segment off on a healthier note with this fun and easy mocktail that can be enjoyed with or without alcohol. The bitterness of the raspberry and lime is countered by the sweet maple syrup for a lively flavour.

Ingredients:

1/4 cup fresh raspberries (85-90 g)
5 fresh basil leaves
170ml mineral, sparkling or soda water
20ml lime juice
1 tsp maple syrup
A handful of ice cubes
SERVES 1

Method:

1. Muddle raspberries, basil and maple syrup together in a shaker until you have a wet mixture.

2. Add mineral or sparkling water and lime juice to the mix.

3. Gently stir all the ingredients together. Serve in a highball glass over ice. Add more fresh raspberries to garnish.

Having said all this, once collections are over feel free to add as much alcohol as you want to forget the little revision you did for them and celebrate being back in Oxford. We would recommend adding either gin or raspberry vodka to give this mocktail a little extra kick.

As always, enjoy, and drink responsibly!

Let’s be positive about 2017

Jordan Bernstein
-
0
Let’s be positive about 2017

Everyone, from newsreaders to late-night talk show hosts, is presenting the coming year as the light at the end of the tunnel. After all of the electoral upsets, celebrity deaths and general dreariness of 2016, we are being told to hold our heads high and welcome the warm embrace of 2017.

At a glance this seems absurd, for in fact what we are likely to see is the realisation of many of the things that hung, like rotting fruit, over the past few months. Trump, a name that, across much of the news, is synonymous with doom gloom and bad decision-making, will take the oath of office and become the 45th President of the United States. If we hated it when the Donald was just talking and tweeting, imagine what it will be like when he has power.

Of course, our own government will formally enter Brexit negotiations in 2017 and, not to be the bearer of bad news, but as the catchment area of what we would define as a ‘celebrity’ widens rapidly, what seemed towards the end of the year like an epidemic of deaths, shows no signs of stopping altogether.

The truth, however, is that the shocks and surprises of this year have made us so cynical that 2017 will need to do much to impress us. Honestly, right now, it looks like it may even be, dare I say it, boring.

So I’m looking forward to everyone and everything calming down in 2017. Does anyone remember when the news was—what’s the word?—dull? When our daily lives were not envel­oped by politics, where we could get through a dinner conversation without someone accusing another of xenophobia or being a soft lefty? Where each episode of Question Time was marked by something other than ‘Does Brexit mean Brexit?’ and UKIP was an interesting irrelevance, albeit an entertaining one.

My positive take on 2017, or I suppose more my wish for 2017, is that everything settles down. We’re leaving the EU and we’re going to start negotiating, instead of meta-arguing about meta-negotiations. Trump is going to enter the White House and start governing.

We can argue about the extent to which he will implement this or that policy, but with any luck those who berate him (often justifiably) will begin to allow him to be judged on his actions and policies, rather than his character, or the fact that he lost the popular vote.

Let’s not forget that, according to most fore­casts, the daily life of the average American won’t change so dramatically. Maybe, just maybe, our news will once again become tedious. Or at the very least, the arguments we do continue to have over politics will be largely policy rather than personality-based—in other words, tedious.

Of course, 2017 will be a year in its own right, not just a concluding part in the 2016/17 televi­sion series we call life. So, on the same theme as the DiCaprio Oscar, Pokémon Go and Paris Agree­ment moments that interspersed themselves in 2016, let’s not forget that we’ll be getting some solid DC/Marvel/Star Wars movies, more Houses and Games of Cards and Thrones, and much else besides.

Profile: Gina Miller

Marianna Spring
-
0
Profile: Gina Miller

Gina Miller has every reason to be fearful. Over the festive period, rather than Christmas cards and messages from well-wishers, the 51-year-old investment manager received a barrage of abuse on social media, from news outlets and even delivered to her doorstep following her decision to challenge Theresa May’s right to trigger Brexit. Yet, in spite of this, she is anything but frightened.

“You should always be intellectually and morally curious. People seemed to have stopped exercising their right to challenge. You need to be the solution. It’s all about action. There is a fear of speaking descending on our society. We can’t be frightened. Fear is a way of controlling people.”

It is unlikely that you would have heard of Miller before October. However, since launching her bid to stop the triggering of Article 50 without MPs’ approval, she has found herself engulfed in the Brexit storm, which rages on into 2017.

The self-proclaimed “nosey-parker” won her initial case against the government last year. Now, as she awaits the result of the Government’s appeal to the Supreme Court against the initial ruling, Miller finds herself the prime target of media. She is bombarded with accusations that she seeks to thwart the will of the people. Rumours swirl that the Supreme court judges will rule in her favour, but she still has little idea as to what will happen. Miller has repeatedly stressed that her bid has never been an attempt to overturn the referendum, but rather that the action to trigger Brexit legally requires a vote in parliament.

“When the judges come to a verdict, the Government will have a few hours more notice
than I will. I will hear the verdict at the same time as everyone else in court and then have to issue a very short statement. The media wants everything immediately. Contrary to others’ beliefs, I have no other agenda. I am passionate and my agenda is ensuring is to ensure that we have a constitution.”

Gina Miller is no stranger to holding the powerful to account and the inevitable criticism that comes with doing so. She cofounded the firm SCM Private in 2014 and she also set up the True and Fair Campaign in 2012 with her hedge-fund manager husband, Alan, calling for more transparency in the City of London’s fund management industry.

“I’m not incredibly intelligent but I have a lot of common sense. I’ve never done anything to make friends. If you really know your information and your data you can challenge anyone.

“I am a mental and physical fidget. I dip in and explore. If you’re going to put your head above the parapet you need to know what you are talking about.

“People are quite lazy once they find themselves in a position of power. I aim to challenge not only the sector but the ethics too and a lack of moral leadership, which caused the financial crisis.

“Industry hasn’t reformed, but the global economy has. For instance, the whole pension sector needs to be reformed. About 80 per cent of the product is not fit for purpose. I adopt the motto ‘people, profit, planet’. A lack of moral leadership and framework is to some extent what caused the financial crisis.

“I have found my work in the charities sector especially challenging. We want to know what happens to our money, to our tax, so I have been pushing boundaries there.

“Before the court case, people were willing to have debates with me. Since, I have been exposed to the most vicious and personal attacks from charities. They are the sector of angels, so to speak, so they can’t bare anyone asking questions. They do not want to be criticised—it makes them look bad.

“People have threatened to sue me for my work and petitioned to close us down. If that’s the reaction, then I know that I’m doing something right.”

Despite her courage both professionally and with regards to the case, she admits that it has nonetheless proved to be a “lonely path”.

“When it came to the court case, I spoke to anyone I could get hold of to find support. The answer was the same every time—we support you, but we can’t be seen to support you.”

Not just lonely, however, but a path weathered with abuse which Miller, who was born in Guyana and grew up in Britain, believes to be especially scathing because of her gender and ethnicity.

“If I was a white male, I would not be suffering in the way I am. Whilst the case was on-going, I tried not to read all of the articles and messages on social media, which are shocking and absolutely disgusting. The idea that a woman cannot be bright enough to do it on her own is absolute nonsense. The idea that as a woman of colour I can only be one of these three jobs—a prostitute, a cleaner or a mother—is even more awful.

“My husband more so than me is infuriated by this idea that a man married to an ambitious woman must be down-trodden, under the thumb.

“We are taught you must not be successful and try your best or you are no longer worthy of being part of normal society. Success is used as a weapon against us.”

Abuse from certain media outlets became so bad, Miller felt compelled to enquire as to why she was suffering so badly.

“They are trying to dig up stories in whatever way possible, so I was speaking to the editor of a right-wing paper about why the press are so obsessed with me, trying to dig up stories in whatever way possible.

“He told me I am an enigma, because no one does things for the right reasons. I told him that nothing could be so revealing of the mind-set and agenda of his paper than that statement. It shows their detachment from society, for they do not realise that every single people go out and do things for the right reasons.”

It is not just Miller, but the Supreme Judges presiding over the case, who have been targeted with abuse. The Daily Mail ran a front page in November declaring the judges “Enemies of the people”, echoing the dangerous language of Hitler’s Nazi Germany.

“The Daily Mail are b reaking the law in inciting hatred and anti-Semitism against these judges. We being bullied and spat at from all angles. They are trying to dig up stories in whatever way possible.”

Miller is keen to point out, however, that it has not all been bad.

“Along with this abuse, I have also received beautiful letters from people affected by the Brexit vote, those from other countries who are incredibly upset with the way the entire thing has been handled.”

Regardless of the ruling, Miller hopes that she has inspired some to stand up for their beliefs and to challenge figures of authority.

“When you leave university, harness that sense of fearlessness, which will create a better society, with better hearts, heads and minds.”

Letter from abroad: Vienna

Rebecca Morton
-
0
Letter from abroad: Vienna

Stepping off the aeroplane at the airport on Christmas Eve was like stepping out of a time machine. It has only been three months since I moved to Vienna to work as a language assistant, but it feels like it has been ten times as long.

Having swapped the sandstone buildings of Oxford and the cobbled streets of Edinburgh for the imperial and high-ceilinged apartment blocks of Austria’s capital city, I have tried to live (almost) like a local.

I found somewhere to live during the notorious September rush, sat in prime seats at the theatre for six euros, and learned when and where it is safe to ride the underground without a ticket. I have also adopted Austrian slang, admired the Danube by night, seen the old Hapsburg Palaces cloaked in snow, and introduced a generation of Austrian teenagers to The Inbetweeners.

In many ways, living abroad has given me a new perspective on life at Oxford. In a world where meals in hall are a distant memory, the word ‘collection’ refers strictly to recycling, and commuting is a 40-minute bike ride at 7am (instead of a five-minute jog down St Giles), I have never felt more free of the academic pressures of school and university. And it’s been rather an emboldening experience.

Austria does not have elite universities, and the whole concept of Oxford and the bottom-dropping-out-of-your-stomach feeling that still features when first week comes around, has never felt so literally or figuratively far away.

I feel as if I have finally put my head above the parapet. The pomp and circumstance of caps and gowns, formal hall, grace in Latin, report readings and tutorials, college politics and punting, collection prizes and principal’s interviews, has all been reduced to background noise. It’s the background noise of a pretty obnoxious brass brand, I grant you that, but it is a whole lot better than having it constantly blasting in your ears. Over the last two years I realise that I have developed a severe tunnel vision. And, it has taken moving countries to remind me that there is more to life than essay deadlines and days spent hiding in the Rad Cam.

Being abroad is like being in a time machine or, perhaps more accurately, a world which operates in a different time zone. People often talk about ‘the Oxford bubble’, yet coming home has reminded me that my life in Vienna is not that dissimilar.

This disorienting realisation first came to me on New Year’s Eve, when it occurred to me that 2017 would arrive a whole hour earlier in Austria than in the UK. The almost non-existent time difference has had little impact on my ability to communicate with friends and family, provided we make it clear to which time zone we are referring, but living a life across two time zones can make you feel a bit queasy at times. It’s like being on an escalator where the hand rail moves faster than the steps.

The problem with being on those escalators is that you end up standing in the most uncomfortable positions. It starts out okay, but if you forget to move your hand, or fail to move a few steps upwards once in a while, you get to the top of the escalator looking like a snapshot of someone clinging on for life in a hurricane.

Whilst being a somewhat disconcerting experience, it’s well worth it. I hope, that when I return to Oxford I will be a little worldlier, perhaps wiser, and a readier to see the funny side of things. Finals are no longer so daunting when you remember there’s a whole world that exists outside ‘the bubble’.

The ‘post-truth’ era is a product of liberal denial

James Lamming
-
0
The ‘post-truth’ era is a product of liberal denial

As 2016 drew to a close, liberal commentators had already made up their minds that a new era was dawning in politics. The shock of Brexit, compounded by the hor­rifying prospect of a forthcoming Trump presidency, caused them to recede deep into their journalistic shells.

This, they hurriedly decided, would be the era of post-truth politics, a new Dark Age for the world. In their frazzled minds, the ignorant electorate had lapped up Trump’s lies and lost them the election. Floating in their liberal bubble, they could not conceive of a world in which voters did not share their exact worldview.

The arrogance is almost tangible. At every fork in the road, liberals took the wrong turning, both in the referendum and in the presidential election. In the referendum, they refused to seriously debate immigration policy. Opposition to the freedom of move­ment was antagonistically conflated with racism, and millions of voters were written off as gullible Little Englanders. Genuine pa­triots, concerned about what they saw as the EU’s hold on British sovereignty, were roundly mocked for their “old-fashioned views”.

Many floating voters did not believe the Remain camp’s consistent scaremongering and doomsaying. Indeed, the Government appeared to be so convinced of a Remain vic­tory that it saw little point in preparing for a potential Brexit, and publicly announced as much.

In the American presidential election, the DNC conspired to rid itself of a genuinely popular challenger from the left in the form of Bernie Sanders. With Sanders as Democratic nomination, Trump’s cries of “Lock Her Up” and “Drain the Swamp” would have lost their formidable sting. Clinton, although eminently qualified and capable during her time as Secre­tary of State, was the worst possible candidate to run against the anti-establishment Trump. Similarly flawed was her campaign plan to play up her social liberalism and identity politics at the expense of class-based economic policy. Voters in the rust belt, inspired in 2008 by Obama’s promise of change, did not see the same potential in Clinton.

Many who espouse the idea of a new “post-truth” era are quick to overlook these errors, and to pin the blame onto the electorate. They are eager to paint the world in Manichean terms, the good and the bad, the progressive, enlightened liberals against the lie-spouting, poor-hating Republicans.

Only the chosen few, some implied, could marshal true rationality and logic in support of their liberal worldview. They patronisingly accused the electorate of being unduly affect­ed by emotional appeals, as if the American people had unanimously decided to ignore reality in the run up to 8 November.

In fact, accusations of being “post truth” have been about since Orwell admitted to of­ten feeling as if “the very concept of objective truth is fading out of the world”. To paraphrase Brecht, it felt as if it would have been more convenient for the Clinton camp to dissolve the people and elect another.

Many claim that Donald Trump’s ability to flatly deny something that he probably said is strong evidence of the existence of post-truth politics. During the presidential campaign it is true that the billionaire got away largely scot-free when caught telling untruths. But this is not representative of post-truth politics: many voters opted for Trump’s egregious style of lying rather than what they saw as Clinton’s naturally untrustworthy nature. Had Sanders run, voters may well have switched their al­legiances and penalised Trump.

Similarly, in the Leave campaign, neither side were considered wholly trustworthy. Both campaigns fairly accused the other of bolstering statistics for political purposes and dishonesty could not be fairly punished.

Although the forthcoming Trump presi­dency will see many attempted lies, claims of a “post-truth era” have been greatly exagger­ated by a liberal elite unwilling to shoulder the blame.

It is highly unlikely that we see Theresa May adopt Donald Trump’s brash style of intention­ally lying in the next General Election. Both Trump and Brexit are symptoms of a unique time in world politics, but they will not herald in a new “post-truth” era.

Review: Silence

Surya Bowyer
-
0
Review: Silence

Twenty-eight and a half years after The Last Temptation of Christ, faith has again driven Scorsese outdoors, and into another wilderness—rural Japan in the seventeenth century. The trailer for Silence portrays it as a different film to the one cinema-goers will encounter. Fast cuts coupled with tremolo strings and intense, building percussion lend the trailer a sense of urgency which is wholly lacking from the film itself. This is in large part due to Scorsese’s complete refusal to include any non-diegetic sound. The film begins with an extended, almost uncomfortably long black screen, with only the ambient noise of a rural environment as accompaniment. The aural tone of the film is thus set from its very first second.

Whilst preoccupied with silence, the film knows how to effectively use sound. A late scene begins with the sound of Rodrigues praying aloud in his cell, with no other ambient noise. But then the sounds of the prison beyond the walls of his cell filter in and build, until he is drowned out by a cacophony of snoring and screaming. The power of the scene is only fully disclosed when the source of the noise is revealed. (Hint: it’s not what we, and Rodrigues, think, but rather something far more disturbing.)

This silence becomes more and more troubling as the film progresses, and as Rodrigues (played with a sensitive combination of warmth and naivety by Andrew Garfield) faces ever increasing hostility. In the film’s early scenes, this hostility is translated into an ambiguous sense of place, with Japan being made to feel disorienting and often insurmountable. Rodrigo Prieto, who so effectively documented the minute details of decadence in The Wolf of Wall Street, proves just as impeccable a collaborator for Scorsese here. A particularly beautiful shot shows the priests descending a tall set of stairs, but either Scorsese or Prieto had the beautifully simple idea of twisting the shot ninety degrees so that they descend not top to bottom but left to right. The result is an arrestingly decontextualised shot. The lack of the sound of footsteps only pushes the shot further towards abstraction.

Whilst not urgent, Silence displays a phenomenal control of timing. In one scene, Scorsese delays a beheading just long enough for the audience to feel safe before abruptly unleashing it on us in a moment of extreme velocity yet extreme clarity.

In the same scene, we are given a single, long take of a naked man trampling the image of Christ and then running out of the prison compound after being set free, with the officers then returning to their lodgings. Whilst not as showy as the famous Copacabana shot from Goodfellas, it is an extremely powerful take: shot from behind the thick wooden bars of Rodrigues’s cell, with the action choreographed shrewdly in the gaps between the bars.

Without the use of any cuts, the audience is left to view exactly what Rodrigues views, in real time. The conventional grammar of cinema—at its heart shot-reverse shot—disintegrates into an extended moment of realism which aligns us with the imprisoned Rodrigues.

Whilst Garfield and Adam Driver give extremely solid performances, Liam Neeson delivers the standout performance among the Portuguese priests. The nuance and subtlety of his performance creates a perfectly ambiguous character—exactly what the role demands. The Japanese side of the cast is, on the whole, extremely strong. Issei Ogata, playing the chief inquisitor, is a particular standout. He delivers a terrifyingly sinister performance which nonetheless somehow never totally eradicates the audience’s sympathy.

Though they share the same cinematographer and similar runtimes, The Wolf of Wall Street and Silence are vastly different films. Whilst the former is a comedy exploring excess, the latter is a sombre work of immense control. This is not to say Silence totally lacks humour. It is funny each time the Judas figure Kichijiro turns up and begs Rodrigues, the very person he betrays, to hear his confession. It is funny that the Portguese priests should use the few moments they have outside the claustrophobic confines of their Japanese hideaway to sit on a rock and sun themselves.

Yet these humorous moments are few and far between, and Silence remains a long and at times taxing work. But do not let this put you off ; this is exactly what it needs to be.

1...945946947...2,515Page 946 of 2,515

Support Student Journalism

Cherwell is Oxford’s oldest independent newspaper, established in 1920. We are entirely student-run. By supporting us, you will contribute to keeping our paper in print and online. Every donation makes a difference.

Donate

Explore

Follow us

More

Oxford Student Publications Limited © 2025 - All Rights Reserved | Privacy Policy

Website by James Ashley