Gardens of the Orient is a film of contrasts, some of which it highlights, some of which it attempts to reconcile, and some of which it ignores.

The film’s proselytisation for the tea industry is transparent, aiming to show that the production of this crop is as pleasant as its consumption. ‘“Tea”’, we are informed, ‘even the name has a cheerful ring about it’. The film illustrates this harmonious production-consumption process in a strange manner. It begins by highlighting the difference between the gardens of the west – redolent of ‘pleasant shade and soft homely colours’ - and the ‘gardens of the orient’ – the tea plantations in India and Ceylon. The film both endorses and undercuts the traditional use of the word ‘garden’ to describe the tea plantations. ‘Garden’ removes any idea of exploitation. We are informed that the British plantation owners have worked ‘in harmony with the inhabitants of India and Ceylon’; the film maintains that the plantation village is ‘a happy place’; and we learn about the free meals, creches, education and medical care that are provided for the labourers. On the other hand, the film cannot help but highlight the difference between the British garden, a place of leisure, and the oriental garden, a place of work. It even juxtaposes a scene of an English-styled garden in India, in which we witness a middle-class British family being served tea by their Indian servants, and scenes shot in a tea plantation, where we are offered ethnographical studies of large Indian families. Moreover, the film reveals the indifference with which these tea planters could be treated. This is evident in its condescending narrative: at one point workers are described as getting ill ‘through eating too much curry perhaps’. It is also in evidence in the footage. In one scene workers can be seen lining up for their pay; here an Indian woman is tossed a bag of coins by the plantation owner who doesn’t even look at her.

The film contrasts the modern facilities provided by the British with the antiquated daily lives of the Indians. The narrative talks of the ‘scrupulous cleanliness’ of a tea factory, full of ‘British machinery of new design’; similarly, the plantation hospital provided by the British is described as being ‘most modern’. In contradistinction, the viewer is informed that ‘local laundrymen disdain newfangled methods’ (here there are shots of Indian planters washing their clothes in the river). There is also footage of the basic kit of the village barber. The commentary states that he ‘airily dispenses with modern tonsorial equipment’.

The film is made up of two contrasting sections. The first shows life on the tea plantations, while the second, longer section outlines the stages of tea cultivation and production. The latter section is thorough in its approach and stands as a valuable document of the processes employed during this period. It covers these processes in great detail, down to the level of the alternative transportation methods employed in various plantations. This is different from the way in which the film illustrates plantation life. Although the film speaks of both Indian and Ceylonese ‘gardens’ it does not distinguish between them. Instead, it states simply that ‘Indian labour is employed on both Ceylon and Indian tea gardens, to which the families emigrate to find work under pleasant conditions’. The film says nothing of the consequences of bringing labour to each region.

The two sections of the film have an effect on one another. On the one hand, because the study of tea cultivation is authoritative, it lends an unwarranted weight to the subjective account of plantation life. This certainly seems to be the way in which early critics viewed the film. The Monthly Film Bulletin summarised that ‘The film is coherent, the emphasis, speed of presentation and photography satisfactory’ (MFB, 1937, 260). On the other hand, while the narrative stresses the care and attention that are given to workers by the plantation owners, the film’s structure suggests otherwise. Viewed today much can be read into the fact that more screen time, and a greater degree of background information, is accorded to the crop than to its pickers.

A final contrast lies in the film’s production values. The soundtrack features an ersatz oriental soundtrack, its indifferent employment being reflective of the film’s viewpoint towards its subjects. The camerawork occasionally belies this attitude, however. Some of the scenes of village life and the villagers are beautifully framed; the photographer grants the workers a dignity that the narrative fails to relay.

Richard Osborne (October 2009)