Reflection on District 9

Last night, my friend Annie and I saw the new Peter Jackson film District 9 in Bethesda. The situation portrayed in the movie brought up several questions in my mind about human behavior and the true nature of evil. I know it sounds like I'm reading a bit too into a sci-fi movie, but I will explain.

The plot of the movie focuses on the actions of Wikus Van der Merwe, an average and mundane desk worker in a company called the MNU, which is hired by the South African government to clear District 9, an area of Johannesburg, of a group of aliens that have been stranded in the city for almost two decades. Through a bit of nepotism, Wirkus is chosen to lead the operation to clear out the aliens and force them into a smaller compound farther away from the city.

Wirkus is probably the most striking aspect of the movie. In the first moments of the film, we see little clips of him with a wide, unthreatening smile, dressed properly if unfashionable, and cracking a few jokes. He comes off as an optimistic, friendly, and straight-laced bureaucrat, the guy who unexpectedly brightens up your trip to the DMV or the Post Office. You are automatically trapped into liking him.

When he sets off into District 9, however, a less likable side of Wirkus is unveiled. He lies to residents, coerces them with cat food (which these aliens love), and exploits ridiculous loopholes all in order to evict the aliens from their ratty dwellings. He jokes about "aborting" the incubating alien young with the same lilt in his voice and charming smile as when he showed off a picture of his wife.

As one watches the scene, it remains difficult to believe that the same charming man who we met in the office is the same man who is heartlessly forcing the aliens from their shanties. Such behavior is no surprise coming from the rough military men, but not from this slight, kindly desk worker. These cruel actions seem all the more inhuman when they are done by an average, even pleasant man.

This performance in the film made me think of human nature. We all to some degree put on performances and have backstages, as they are called by Erving Goffman. In the character of Wirkus, however, the front and backstage blend in a subtle way. His efficiency, dedication towards his job, and disarming manner become tools of evil when put toward his cruel, heartless work. Although his front may not have changed, his impression most definitely alters.