Shezad Dawood, Leviathian Cycle, Episode 4: Jamila, 2018
Single screen HD video with sound. 10 min 36 sec
Courtesy the artist
Film commissioned by Arts Council, England; Barakat, Seoul; HE.RO Amsterdam and Leviathan — Human & Marine Ecology
THE DRUMMING HAD
THRUMM TOM TOM
DUM DUM DHUMM
BEEN GETTING LOUDER
These are the first lines of Shezad Dawood’s Leviathan Cycle, Episode 4: Jamila (2018). This ominous opening sets the tone for the remaining minutes; with this episode perhaps being the darkest of Dawood’s Leviathan Cycle so far. What will be a cycle of ten films in total uses the first five episodes to present tales of migration, climate crisis and mental health issues from a human perspective, before switching to that of marine life. So far, each episode is centred on one character’s inner world and experience, largely expressed through voiceover that moves from English, French, Italian to Arabic as the character changes.
Ben and Yasmine, the main protagonists introduced in the first two episodes, are journeying south together. They find themselves in a near-future, some twenty to fifty years from now, with the world thrown into chaos after an inexplicable solar cataclysm. Having left behind the Bacchanalian orgies and excess of a newly formed community in a Venetian lagoon (Episode 3: Arturo), the duo is now on the coast of Morocco, stuck after their car breaks down.
Episode 4: Jamila was shot on location in Sidi Ifni, far down Morocco’s north Atlantic coastline. The rugged beauty, empty beaches, and vast cliffs, described by Jamila as 'a soft hazy red, that mirrored the bleeding sunset,' form the backdrop for a desperate fight for survival as Ben and Yasmine fall victim to a violent attack by the eponymous Jamila and her group of three other ‘parasitic’ bandits.1 Images compare this assault to sharks slowly circling prey or fish being gutted by fishmongers, eyes wide as their heads are discarded. The quick edit style and graphic images criticise the prevalence of sex and violence in media and mediation, with Dawood noting it is 'almost a mirror, to that fast-paced acceleration of newsfeed algorithms.'2 Meanwhile, Jamila’s voice reflects on her group’s motivation to stalk the shores, looking to rape and kill: 'It also allowed us to focus our rage, impotence and unknowing outwards onto these poor souls foolish enough to wander into our former lives.' It does not take long though before the roles are reversed, with a new armed duo intervening and killing all but Jamila. The episode’s coastal setting and exploration of predator-prey relationships in both human and marine species all stand in direct references to the cycle’s title.
1 Shezad Dawood, Leviathan Cycle, Episode 4: Jasmine, 2018, single screen. 10 min 36 sec. Commissioned by Arts Council, England; Barakat, Seoul; HE.RO Amsterdam and Leviathan — Human & Marine Ecology.
2 Shezad Dawood quoted in @the_ryder_projects IG TV Leviathan Q&A, 'Sex and violence manifest themselves in Leviathan as both separate and related forces. Could you expand on how they are situated in the work, as well as our current contemporary condition?' question by Aaron Cezar, 28 May 2020. Last accessed 29 May 2020.
Leviathan. It’s quite the weighty word. With the meaning pointing towards either an autocratic state; a sea serpent in the Tanakh and Old Testament; any large aquatic creature, particularly a whale; or Hobbes’ 17th-century book on social contract theory, it is safe to say Leviathan is a many-headed beast. The same can be said for Dawood’s version, which manages to simultaneously touch on the mythical, social, Biblical and oceanic connotations of the term. He says he chose the title specifically to add to the vast bank of knowledge that the title evokes.3
3 Shezad Dawood quoted in Shezad Dawood: Leviathan, Bluecoat Liverpool, YouTube video, 18 September 2019. Last accessed 21 May 2020.
Equally, the project is sprawling in many ways. Whilst ten moving image works may sound like an ambitious enough project, Dawood’s Leviathan also encompasses installation, neons, painting, commissioned research papers, VR and a vast public programme. It is through this programme of talks that the voices of the hundreds of oceanographers, climate scientists, trauma specialists, academics, environmentalists, migrant rights activists and neurologists that lent their expertise to Dawood are made visible.
This is how the research started out, with Dawood going out to meet these experts driven by the question 'is there a connection between mass migration and marine conservation?.' Turns out some of these connections are even more direct than might be expected. Sandro Carniel, a scientist at the Institute of Marine Sciences in Venice for example highlighted that the route used in the recent migration crisis from the North African coast to Lampedusa goes right over a hump in the ocean floor, which displaces water and creates squalls and currents.4 These form a large part of the reason that crossing this part of the Mediterranean is so dangerous.
4 Hettie Judah, 'I’ve created a monster! Shezad Dawood on his oceanic epic Leviathan', The Guardian, 7 May 2017. Last accessed 21 May 2020.
In other words, Dawood is attempting to draw parallels between the top and bottom of the oceans.5 His Leviathan does not only move through history and place, it also places human stories on par with those of aquatic beings, all with relative visual ease due to the clever use of expansive archive footage. It may be a many-headed beast, but one that moves the term ‘Leviathan’ out of the depths of history and connects some of the most urgent issues of contemporary time together in one body of work.
5 Ibid.