A Short Essay on Stress (2008)
by French Duo Justice (
By Joseph Möller
From the very beginning, it is obvious that Romain
Gavra’s video for Justice’s Stress takes
no prisoners: opening the short clip, a low-angle tracking shot of several teenagers
dressed in black leather jackets, paired with frantic synth tunes, plunges the
viewer directly into a world of violence and provides a sense of the mayhem
that is about to unfold. Not that it would take very long, anyway. Gavra’s
video, in perfect correspondence with Justice’s hectic beats, is extremely
fast-paced. The edit is fast and switches seamlessly from shaky close-ups to
tracking shots to establishing shots taken from high angles. It is thanks to
Gavras’ craftsmanship that the video’s aesthetic remains so authentic that it
can be hard to decide whether the events depicted are real or staged – which is
the main reason why Stress was
discussed to heavily and remains among the most controversial videos of all time.
In this essay, the reasons of its realism shall be discussed, taking into
account not only the video’s aesthetic propositions, but also some of the
surrounding circumstances that accompanied its creation.
When Stress was
released in 2008, the preceding social upheavals were certainly not forgotten by
the French’s collective consciousness. In 2005, two adolescents were
accidentally electrocuted while running and hiding from the police in a power
station. The event sparked a series of riots in the Banlieues surrounding Paris
– traditionally areas of economic underdevelopment, poor infrastructure and
high levels of poverty and crime. The Banlieues, mostly inhabited by France’s
neglected ethnicity stemming from former colonies, are the French counterparts
to LA’s South Central or Brooklyn’s East New York: areas which members of the
established (white) middle class rarely roam and that retain the various
stigmas of the Ghetto. Thus, the decision to create a music video focusing on
the alleged criminal intent of juveniles residing in these areas and taking
their hate and violence on such prestigious neighborhoods as the Montmartre was
certainly not accidental, especially considering the amount of merchandising
that accompanied the release of Stress.
As the video initiated quite some controversy, its
producing label Ed Banger was certainly pleased with the hype that was created
simultaneously for the Justice-related products it was selling. Repeating their
marketing success of 2007 when the video for Justice’s D.A.N.C.E. was released,
the company again proved to be a skilled marketer of merchandise: accompanying D.A.N.C.E., several limited edition
T-Shirts featured in the music video were sold at prestigious Paris-based
concept store Colette. In 2008, Justice released leather jackets and T-shirts
featuring the eponymous Cross logo.
The leather jackets were produced in collaboration with French label Surface 2
Air and were again sold at Colette and other hip, avant-gardist clothing stores in Paris, hanging alongside such
illustrious brands like Yves Saint Laurent or Christian Dior. Clearly aimed at
high-income individuals, the clothes thus formed a bridge between the alleged
wilderness of the Ghetto and the relative safety of middle-class Parisian
adolescents. Since the marauding youngsters in Stress are prominently sporting the Cross leather jacket, the
dangerousness and unpredictability of life in the Banlieues becomes directly
associated with the brands Justice, their trade mark logo Cross and, to a certain extent, Ed Banger. As a consequence, the
products become highly anticipated and sought-after in Parisian middle-class
environments, emitting a certain air – namely, to quote Grandmaster Flash, the
exotic air of the “jungle.” Of course, the sell-out of the Ghetto image comes
with a downside, and in Justice’s case, it’s the smell of racism taking the fun
out of an otherwise perfect marketing stunt.
While Stress is
a testimony of Gavras’ expert camera and editing skills, it is also an
audiovisual proof of ignorant unscrupulousness. Evidently, for one, the
marauders featured in the video are, without exception of (North) African
descent, a casting choice that strongly links violence and disobedience to race
and derivation. Ultimately, it postulates an identity of crime and blackness,
an equation that is not only dubious but is also reminiscent of right wing
demagogues that so profoundly despise the diversity of modern societies these
days. Secondly, the depiction of the violence that makes its way from the Banlieues
to the city of Paris and its blindsided, defenseless citizens is an exaggerated
alarm that overestimates the alleged danger pouring from the poorer social
strata into more bourgeois and pacified neighborhoods.
The most incriminating evidence, however, is also the
video’s biggest achievement: the realism of its cinematography. Because the
faux found footage is so skillfully crafted, Stress can be hard to watch. The frantic camerawork is nauseating,
its shakiness corresponding perfectly with the aimless destruction. In fact, it
is so real that it leaves no room for
the viewer to readily perceive it as a work of art but as an actual representation
of CCTV footage. Of course, art does not need to have a tag around its neck
indicating its artificiality. However, given the choices of representation
mentioned above, a lot of criticism concerning its racial prejudices could have
been avoided – or at least, rendered less ambiguously. At any rate, Stress remains a controversial video,
and a part of Justice’s image will forever be linked to the uncompromising
staccato of electronic beats and distressed imagery.