The joy of heaven, the pain of death
Katherine Kizilos
25/07/2007
The Age

On day one of the film festival, Paul Cox tells Katherine Kizilos about the debt he felt he owed to the lepers in a Hawaiian colony.

KALAUPAPA is an isolated outcrop on the Hawaiian
island of Molokai. On three sides it is surrounded by surf, and on the fourth side, a green escarpment rises steeply, forming a natural prison. White colonisers made it a lepers' colony. Having brought the disease to the islands, they then condemned thousands of native Hawaiians to a lonely and painful death at Kalaupapa.

Director Paul Cox told part of the story in his 1999 feature film
Molokai: The Story of Father Damien. The film was based on the real life of a 19th-century Belgian priest (played by David Wenham) who made great personal sacrifices to help the people exiled there. But after the troubled making of the feature film, Cox had unfinished business on Kalaupapa.

Last year he returned to make a documentary, Kalaupapa Heaven, about the last 30 or so people who still live there.

As Cox tells it, these people have been free to leave since 1960. Modern treatments mean that Hansen's disease, as leprosy is also known, is not contagious if a sufferer is taking medication. But Kalaupapa has become home to the people who live there; even those who are not disfigured prefer it to any other place.

The interview takes place in Cox's Albert Park production office, Illumination Films. Cox, an independent filmmaker who has made 22 feature films, has long been based in
Melbourne but says he has been spending less time in Australia in recent years, partly because of the difficulty of financing his films here. "Nobody deserves continuous support, but I can't work in this country any more," he says. "I can't make a living."

His next feature film, Salvation, about "that born-again Christian rubbish" is scheduled to appear at the end of the year.

Kalaupapa Heaven was made for love, not profit. It's an attempt to explain why the residents feel such an attachment to the peninsula where they have known immense suffering. The documentary is partly a plea for Kalaupapa to be preserved as a memorial to those who have died there.

Cox says developers are already circling Kalaupapa, and he has a horror for what the place might become. "There are so many people lurking around that want to turn it into one of those (places) with those hideous, hideous condominiums and golf courses," says Cox.

But he believes a preserved Kalaupapa could serve a role as
America's conscience, and as a way of remembering a group of people who were forsaken but who nevertheless found a way to live with dignity.

The filmmaker is convinced that the residents at Kalaupapa have much to teach the rest of us. "They are dear and wonderful people," says Cox, who befriended many of the patients while staying at Kalaupapa during the making of
Molokai and again while he was shooting the documentary.

His identification with the residents was so strong that at one time he thought he had contracted leprosy himself. "I had a spot growing on my arm.

I thought, 'Oh, oh this is it', but (I think) it was psychosomatic."

On reflection, Cox decided that had he become sick, he wouldn't have minded staying on the peninsula."

Strindberg says true life is based upon pain and suffering and not on joy and laughter.

When you go through deep pain, you become more human ... in the real world you have real people and shallow people and the shallow people have everything. And even if the real people have everything (in terms of worldly goods) it means nothing to them." Cox adds that "real life is about being, it is about giving, and these patients really know what that means".

Cox recalls that during the shooting of the feature film he and Wenham were invited to spend a day watching the filming of Baywatch at a nearby beach. He didn't want to go, but Richard Marks, the sheriff at Kalaupapa was also invited and was keen. Marks, who was diagnosed with Hansen's disease when he was a young man, tells his story on the documentary: of his separation from his family and friends; of his luggage being doused with sulphur before travelling, a measure he believes offered little protection but told everyone of his pariah status; of not being allowed to visit his wife in hospital after she had given birth, or, later, his dying son.

Cox says he was criticised in the
US because the word leper is used in his documentary.

The word is not used by Cox, however, but by the patients he interviews. "If they want to use it, that's OK with me."

The documentary was the first time the patients had allowed themselves to be filmed, he says. Some have no fingers, some are blind, some are in wheelchairs, some have faces distorted by the illness, while others - like Marks - show no sign of the disease.

Cox says one of the consequences of their exile to Kalaupapa is that the patients had no opportunity to pursue their education. But what is striking about the interviews is how eloquently they speak about their lives and what it has taught them. Old women speak about the pain of having their babies taken from them. Olivia Breitha, 90, the first person to speak in the film, says that despite what she has suffered she would wish for no other life."

I'm not sorry, I'm happy, I'm glad because actually I learned how to find myself, with my spirit. It's not only my body that makes me, it's my soul, and I learned to contact myself . . ."

But to return to the Baywatch outing, which neatly reflected all of Cox's feelings about the significance of Kalaupapa."

We had this hilarious day with these people with their hard faces and hard knockers pushed out in all directions . . .

they thought they were all very important and very beautiful."

On the way back to Kalaupapa, Cox, Wenham and Marks each had a turtle tattooed on their upper arm. The turtle is a sacred animal in
Hawaii. "I am very proud of this," says Cox, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the creature etched in indigo ink. "When we see each other, we rub our turtles together."

He then says that Marks, who is "79, 80" is very ill now and that Olivia Breitha died last year. Kalaupapa is beautiful, Cox agrees, but it is filled with bones. "The place is like what Goethe says, 'one moment the joy of heaven, the next moment the pain of death'."

Kalaupapa Heaven is, finally, Cox's attempt to correct what he says was the violence done to his feature film
Molokai by his Belgian producers. Cox was told that the film he had made was too depressing. Cox was sacked twice; once during filming and again during post-production.

Cox says the film that was released in cinemas "bombed".

It also violated his artistic intentions and, in his mind, betrayed the people of Kalaupapa.

Eventually, he says, the investors asked him to return and re-create the original version, which is available on DVD.

The bitter dispute over the making of the feature, the uncertainty over the future of the peninsula, even the controversy over the use of the word "leper", are all signs that this dreaded disease, which has almost disappeared from view, still has a powerful hold on our collective imagination. In their own ways, both films ask the questions: who is well and who is sick and what does it mean to be whole? Cox says they also ask another question: "what does it mean to be human?" Kalaupapa Heaven will screen at
5pm on Sunday at ACMI. A question and answer session will take place with Cox afterwards.