One of the defining features of my childhood and adolescence was watching shows and films with my family. It was before the dominance of streaming platforms. We were at the mercy of what aired on TV. Or, what we had on DVD.
I grew up in a Polish family, but half of my life was spent in Spain and the other half in England, with many summers spent in Poland with my family. As a child, I watched English cartoons dubbed in Spanish, Russian cartoons dubbed in Polish, and many others in translation – not to mention the many original ones in each language.
Not too long ago, my friend and I were talking about Dora the Explorer (normal weeknight conversation) when she said how it taught her Spanish words. It took me a minute to realise how Dora didn’t teach me Spanish words. I learnt English words from Dora! To me Dora’s native language was Spanish.
Similarly, there are plenty of Shrek memes on my social media. I must admit, I do indulge in them often, especially the ones with Donkey at the forefront. But it took me a while to realise that I don’t remember watching the films in English. I have seen plenty of clips and memes of Shrek in English, but not the full films. I can only remember watching them on Polish TV, when they aired them during Christmas and Easter half-terms since children were free from school. When I think of the voice of Shrek, the Polish actor’s voice who dubbed it plays automatically in my mind.
Another cartoon I loved was originally in Russian, produced between the 1960s to 2006. The English name is Well, Just You Wait!. I even had a collection of the DVDs which came in a neon green box, with spaces for all the DVDs protected by a layer of foam. It was one of my most prized possessions. The DVDs were used to their death, I mourned them even though it was my constant watching that was the cause of their perish. Over the Christmas vacation, during a bout of insomnia I rewatched an episode. Although nearly fifteen years have elapsed since I first watched, nothing had changed. Possibly the quality was better, but I laughed and enjoyed it as much as I did when I was five. It has to be said however, that it would not be a cartoon promoted by any child psychologists- one of the protagonists is a wolf who smokes and drinks.
Cartoons are a pretty common childhood feature. Between cartoons, my mum and grandma watched their ‘adult shows and films’. There were the staple Polish ones which most, if not all, Polish people will remember. Noce i Dnie, Znachor, Dom, Trędowata. Quintessential pieces of Polish cinema and TV. Today, I can not express the gratitude I feel for having the privilege to be exposed to these. Some of the ones I listed, and others, guided me to the path of studying History. They were historical dramas which exposed me to many episodes in Polish history I was unfamiliar with at the time. They prompted me to be the annoying child asking, ‘Why did that happen?’, ‘Why was that person important?’, ‘What happened next?’. Eventually, these transformed into Google searches, scrolling through Wikipedia and Encyclopedia Britannica. Now, I pick my papers based on the interests that these shows and films created in me. Soon, I will be writing my dissertation, whose origins can be traced back to the hours I spent sitting next to my grandma or mum in front of the TV.
To some it will seem as if my childhood was spent in front of a screen, the biggest sin these days. The time watching was complementary to walks, hours playing in the park, indulging in books, learning to read and being read to, drawing, cooking, and more. But, the time watching will always hold a soft spot in my heart and memory. The last thing I watched with my grandma before she passed away was Noce i Dnie. It is a story of a couple meeting, having a family, and all the struggles that such adventures entail, beginning in the 19th Century and ending with the outbreak of the First World War. My grandma and I watched it during the Christmas vacation last year. I had just finished my first Michaelmas and went to spend most of the vacation with her. Like most mammals, we entered a state of hibernation, where the house was only vacated at times of need. To kill some of the time, we watched Noce i Dnie. We didn’t finish the full show, but I was taken back to the time my family watched it when I was a child. Except this time it wasn’t on DVD but on a streaming platform and we weren’t in sunny Spain but in the midst of Polish winter.
Most of my childhood memories of shows and films are not in English. Albeit, when we moved to England this changed but only marginally. I remember watching Polish and Spanish shows. Also, some time in either the late 90s or early 2000s, Mexican soap operas took Polish TV by a storm. These did confuse me as a child, as they were not dubbed but a feature very present in Polish cinema and TV. They had a reader translate what was being said originally in Spanish. Unlike dubbing, this feature does not mute the original and place the translated dubbing on top, instead the original is muted and the reader is delayed. So first you hear the original and then the translation. I speak Spanish, but my grandma didn’t, so when I watched with her I understood what was being said before she did. It was a difference in milliseconds, but I almost felt triumphant since it was the one thing I knew that my grandma didn’t.
I hope that all this illustrates how I was subconsciously taught to engage with many non-Anglophone films and shows. Whenever I watch anything on Netflix not originally in any of the languages I speak, I use subtitles. Never dubbing, unless I am watching with my mum. I love subtitles. They open so many doors in the world of films and shows. They provide an endless supply of things not yet seen. I know not everyone will share this opinion. English has become the standard, almost universal, language. Major award shows like the Academy Awards and the BAFTAs have separate categories for international, in other words non-English language, films. I am not one to fanatically engage with award season, but I do remember the 2020 award season.
On February 9, 2020 Parasite won the Best Picture award at the Oscars, among many others. It was the first ever non-English film to have ever won this. I find this ridiculous, frankly. Moments like these remind me that I have not seen many canons in Western cinema. I have never watched Citizen Kane. I have never seen Casablanca. I am not sure if I ever will. For me it is a form of personal protest. My cannons are Noce i Dnie, Znachor, Dom, Trędowata. This list is only a starting point and by no means exhaustive. I find a glimmer of delight in not allowing these institutions to crumble my perspective on cinema and shows.
There was a time where I, as a teenager, revered these institutions as the final authority on what good acting, cinematography and TV is. That is no more. It is impossible to count how many non-English language productions are overlooked by these institutions, but simultaneously adored, respected and commemorated by international and local crowds, and those who venture beyond their Netflix recommendations.
After Parasite won Best Motion Picture, Foreign Language at the 2020 Golden Globes, director Bong Joon Ho said the following during his acceptance speech: “Once you overcome the one-inch tall banner of subtitles you will be introduced to so many more amazing films.” This is one of my favourite quotes. It perfectly summarises people’s attitudes to stepping out of their comfort zone, especially when it comes to activities that they use to relax. Their logic may be to question why so much effort needs to be placed to watch a film or show when their end goal is to wind down not to discover something new. I instead argue the effort makes it enjoyable.
There is scope for both aims to be met. I simply encourage people to occasionally choose to go beyond their comfort zone and watch a film with subtitles. Although you may not understand the language, the emotions will not go amiss. Emotions are the universal human language. Often I listen to music in Arabic. I don’t understand Arabic, but I can feel and understand the sadness, euphoria, anger, or anything else the song is trying to convey. Interacting with films, shows and music in other languages opens our eyes to the realisation of how similar all humans are. Just like the common phrase says ‘we all bleed red’, we all also feel the same happiness, heartbreak and emotions.
I am convinced that there are many people who experienced a multi-lingual childhood like I did, and who will undoubtedly have similar reflections. The beauty of being third-culture children. As this is the last column of InterMEDIAte, I hope that it pushes at least one reader to watch something in an unfamiliar language, or to ask a friend about the shows they grew up with, or to search up the translation for a song that spoke to their heart and soul before it did to their mind – a song or film they don’t yet understand the language of.