“An Urban Allegory” by Alice Rohrwacher makes no secret of its inspiration from Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave,” but what makes it compelling is its superimposition of the old text onto modern living. The short-film, at only 21 minutes long, argues that those in power, both in terms of laws and the monopoly over attention, subjugate the masses, keeping them in a sedated, non-thinking state of being.
In French, there is a saying, “La vérité sort de la bouche des enfants,” which translates as “the truth is spoken from the mouth of children.” It is from this idiom that Rohrwacher chooses her narrator: a young child, Jay, who accompanies his mother to her dance audition before running away and eventually revealing the true nature of reality, literally “tearing” a layer of plaster covering a seemingly regular wall. Children and education are important topics for Plato, and the film treats them with a similarly critical lens. From the moment we are introduced to Jay, we are plunged into his view of illusions. Jay carries a kaleidoscope around with him, and cinematic shots cut between the refractions and reflections seen through it. These refractions parallel how Plato views our understanding of the world around us: the images we see are mere shadows of the “real.” Hence, Jay’s adventure begins when a stranger bumps into him, breaking his kaleidoscope and forcing him to confront reality.
But what is reality? We, as human beings, are easily molded by our surroundings. In his Kallipolis, or “the beautiful city,” Plato argues that the environment should be controlled to produce better people. Rohrwacher’s portrayal of phones makes it clear she believes they are a corrupting influence. Throughout the short film, people walk blindly through the streets, eyes glued to their screens. While Jay’s mom is desperately searching for the theater, she asks an idle man for directions, and he responds, “Don’t you have a GPS?” Plato may pardon him, arguing that the theater itself is a form of deception, but I do not think the theater’s role is one of entertainment. The significance of this scene lies in the historical importance of the theater as the center of community life: We have not lost touch with culture as long as we have connections with others within our community.
The director of the theater is one who has not fallen for the lies of the senses. When we are introduced to him, he is undergoing a treatment for his eyesight, and wears dark sunglasses throughout the rest of the film, a reference to Plato’s suggestion that those ascended to higher knowledge will struggle with blindness when returning to the darkness of the cave. It is this philosopher, we could call him, who completes Jay’s awakening. Jay then escapes and discovers the deception of the outside world, reaching the walls of the city and tearing away a layer of wrapping paper concealing the mouth of the cave.
The unpeeling is stunning in itself, but the visuals become even more impressive. Jay transcends from the physical, three-dimensional version of himself into a stop-motion paper that walks within the walls of the buildings. A moment must be taken to appreciate the beauty within the short itself. Starting from the establishing shots of the gray city of Paris to the intimate scenes within the theater, the beauty of the camerawork is evident, even to viewers like me who have not spent a tremendous amount of time studying film. Even more, there is the dance choreography that becomes increasingly spliced within scenes as the film progresses. Arranged within a vertical grid, each dancer is part of the composition of an abstract show of images and forms that is as captivating as it is laden, referencing Plato’s theory that forms are superior to the senses. This sequence comes to an end when Jay—or the poster of Jay—gets covered up by city workers.
I have already discussed the role of social media, but there is a second power that Rohrwacher’s film appears to warn of. The hint can be found in the words painted on many of the buildings portrayed: “défense d’afficher,” or “posting prohibited.” This is a reference to the old French law from 1881, which was designed to protect public spaces from being overwhelmed by advertisements or fliers. However, rather than being protective, as intended in the original law, the film portrays them as stifling. It is these words written on the wall that Jay tears up to reveal the cave’s mouth. The saying is also present on the wall where his two-dimensional form is located, when it eventually gets covered up by the government workers. Not only are we meant to question social media—which has blinded us from being in contact with public spaces—but also the authorities that have taken away our ability to make these spaces our own. We should question the laws that keep us bound like prisoners, unable to see reality.
What does this mean for us? Personally, I take it as a call to action. Observation is rebellion, and every act of finding truth and the cracks in the parchment masking our vision is important. Humans are social animals, and the spaces we inhabit should be owned by us, both in terms of our attentiveness and the ability to shape them into the sort of world we want to be in. Ultimately, Rohrwacher ends on an optimistic note. Jay’s first bit of unraveling leads to the whole community stopping and realizing the truth: Every change begins with the actions of one person.