Through the ages there have been a plethora of discussions and arguments over the effectiveness of the practice of observation. Historically, perhaps, there has been a large emphasis on the utilisation of observation as a means to learn, discover and understand concepts and theories. As a society observation was always understood in this manner, particularly amongst the upper class and wealthy where a socioeconomic structure was at the forefront. In teaching, students would watch and listen, paying close attention to instruction and explanation from the teacher, spending large segments of their contact hours simply observing instruction from the head of the class. Observation was seen as the best way to learn. Documentary film has been through a similar journey – with arguments from many prominent figures discussing the idea of observation. As a society, it is only in the last couple of decades where there has been a paradigm shift, as we began to realise the importance of involvement and participation. Now days – especially outside of the traditional and high class circles – there seems to be a common acceptance of the best practice for learning to be through active involvement and participation.

Documentary filmmaking accepted and took onboard this sort of logic much faster, almost as soon as the technologies required were willing and able. From the early Grierson film’s showcasing the working class to audiences to Pennebaker’s Don’t Look Back and other films – filmmakers wanted to present “the world” in all its truth to the audience. Audiences themselves were there to observe the world. Although there is a vast difference in the construction of “reality” between Pennebaker’s films and Grierson’s the premise is the same. The filmmaker shows you the world (or perhaps more aptly, there world) and you lap it up, relishing in the opportunity to see the world, or at least a part of the world that you don’t normally get to see. Both Grierson and Pennebaker have their critics however, and are both subject to a number of questions regarding the fallibility of this representation of “reality”. Enter the participatory film.

Cinema vérité, the French film movement from around the same time as American direct cinema – the movement Pennebaker belonged to – was a means to an end. It offered something vastly more believable and honest and a style of film and truth that is easier to champion as the “better way” of making films and sending a message. By “better way” I guess I mean the method that is more ethical and honest. Instead of constructing the image they wanted the audience to observe (i.e. The Night Mail or Public Housing [Grierson]) or by claiming to show the truth and nothing but the truth (Pennebaker and observational cinema), participatory filmmakers only laid claim to representing one notion – that people acted differently around a video camera and there was no way to capture “reality” without the interference from the camera. Instead the filmmaker actively involves themselves in the film, interacting with the subject and their world in an attempt to honestly and ethically showcase this part of the world to the audience – but more importantly doing this while being upfront and honest about the presence of a camera and exploring what effect that might have over the social actors performance.  A contemporary and relevant example of this style of documentary is British filmmaker Louis Theroux. Perhaps the simplest way to understand this style is that the filmmaker doesn’t attempt to say anything explicitly about the subject – but speaks with the subject. Of course there are voiceovers reflecting and questioning things which have occurred on film and in the process of making the film, but there is never an explicit statement of truth or something which is forced upon the viewer.

While these are two examples of the debate between observation and participation, a trend is beginning to develop. Of course they are different and almost mutually exclusive circumstances – but the emphasis is again on involvement. There is another way to look at this question as a practitioner which should be discussed, and that’s the effectiveness of sending a message or making a political statement – perhaps more relevant in context to the Art of Persuasion. Collectively we understand that the role a filmmaker plays in documentary film is to act as a champion for a thought, cause or agenda through their film. Can you effectively do this through simply watching? Arguably the answer is no. Of course there’s always an agenda and there’s always a message to be delivered in a documentary film – but pondering the most notable (or notorious) documentary films of history the most effective see a considerable amount of intervention or participation from the filmmaker.

Perhaps a good example of this is Pennebaker’s first film – Daybreak Express – which is against the grain entirely in comparison to the majority of his films that were created in the observational mode. Daybreak Express features heavy involvement in the time, space, rhythm and structure of the film from Pennebaker. The whole film is a montage of city life – utilising a Duke Ellington track in place of narration to articulate the hustle and bustle of urban post-war New York. The film is poetic, yet political and says an incredible amount about the city in just 5 minutes of time. Arguably this is from the intervention of Pennebaker as a filmmaker and as an editor. Could you paint such a stirring picture of a particular city in a particular time of place in just 5 minutes through observation with a camera, as a fly on the wall? Would it even be possible to create such a compelling image of ANY city in just 5 minutes through the lens of a camera? Of course there are ways a similar message could be construed or emphasised. But it’s debatable just how powerful the conjuration would be.

In Fridolin Schoenwiese’s It Works, there is a compelling and powerful narrative told; the struggles of living with a physical disability, such as cerebral palsy. In 20 minutes Schoenwiese attempts to recreate the frustrations of the sufferer and visualise this struggle through the use of some simple footage and sound that is cut together in sequences utilising image and sound. The end result, from the scenes watched in class, were incredibly jarring. The audience cannot help but feel frustrated – the sound is jarring and irritating – the images are frustrating themselves, the words just won’t come out onto the typewriter. The feelings evoked here are cleverly utilised to provoke sympathy for the sufferers of these disabilities – it is obvious from the film that we are not just watching a fully functioning and healthy adult having trouble typing a message. The whole sequence is incredibly moving. Again, it is arguable – but could you have the same impact or the same effect from simply filming somebody with a physical disability typing a message with a typewriter. The frustration could be captured, you could feel sorry for them, perhaps, but unlike Schoenwiese’s film, you would not experience the frustration yourself. Not only does the film’s subject feel frustration in Schoenwiese’s film – but the audience does too. For the audience to feel a stronger sense of connection and understanding a film demands intervention.

In conclusion, both as a practitioner and in a broader sense of understanding, participation and engagement breaks down some political hierarchies that are involved in communication. Observation tends to encourage a strict sociopolitical hierarchy in film and a sense of separation with the subject. This is notable in all walks of life and is not specifically documentary relative.