KANO: AN AMERICAN AND HIS HAREM Review
The
easiest thing to do is to inform. What Monster Jimenez does in Kano: An American and His Harem may be
the hardest thing to accomplish. She first informs, of the life of Victor
Pearson, an American war veteran who relocates to the Philippines and
establishes a household that is composed of him and several wives and
paramours, of the criminal suit for rape, of his eventual image as sexual
deviant and monster. Jimenez then opens a window for Pearson, who has been adjudged
by all who knew him solely as a character in the newspaper headlines as an
indefatigable pervert, to prove his humanity, and opens a bigger window for
Pearson to display his undeniable charms and wit.
Pearson
looks like a thoroughly unkempt Harvey Keitel and talks like a reflective but
drunken Edward G. Robinson. He is an inevitable screen personality. His backstory,
with the possible barrage of psychological torture from a hinted torturous
childhood and Vietnam War experiences, could have been a Kubrick thriller. His
present story, as embattled villain in a legal battle against all odds, could have
been a clever Lumet court drama.
His
harem, on the other hand, is composed of an eclectic mix of looks and ages.
Probably the only uniting factor for the women is poverty, which leads
supposedly to their attachment and dependence on Pearson's sizable veteran's pension.
However, to simply regard their intertwined relationships as primarily economic
is to disregard the complexity of human nature. Jimenez explores not only the
cycle of financial dependency but also the continuously evolving emotions, no
matter how misplaced, mutated and immoral they seem to be. She treats the
relationships between Pearson and his women and among the women with
light-hearted sensitivity, with a careful but delicious mix of humor and
seriousness.
Kano: An American and
His Harem is
ostensibly about the most curious of domestic arrangements, where one man plays
benefactor, lover, victimizer, and a whole lot of other roles to the women who
are voluntarily or involuntarily under his wing. Yet, the documentary also
pushes perception despite the norms and moral boundaries that have set in place
how we normally perceive what is human and what is not. Pearson, through
Jimenez's peerless and very involved investigation, has become the perfect example
of the most misunderstood man, considering that his much-publicized and now
legendary devious acts are too glaring to gloss over. And despite the initial
disgust, the momentary fascination, and the lingering intrigue with Pearson, he
becomes familiar, perhaps overly familiar to the point of discomfort.
Yet,
Jimenez does not flinch. In fact, she confronts Pearson with only some
apprehension, maybe some suspicion too, but never with disdain or an already
made-up objective as to how the documentary will move. Instead, the documentary
takes a life of its own, rollercoasting on emotions ranging from anger to
amusement, and frustration to delight. It moves seemingly without direction
because the director itself is moved by her subject, gravitating only to the
business of exhibiting Pearson's life and dilemma. As willing companions of
Jimenez in her creatively crafted and deliciously enjoyable attempt to simplify
the complexities of Pearson and his women's unique situation, it is best to
enter Kano: An American and His Harem with
an open mind, totally unresisting of the probable charms of Pearson and his bountiful
love.
(Cross-published in Lessons from the School of Inattention.)