It is interesting to note the differences between Song and Ceylon and Negombo Coast, both in terms of their structure and in relation to their use of the same film materials. Song of Ceylon is structured in four parts. The first two parts cover Buddhist ceremonies and rural life, but then the third part jars with these portraits by introducing ‘The Voice of Commerce’, the technological and commercial changes wrought by the British colonisers. The film provides some resolution, however: the fourth part indicates that, despite this intrusion, the traditional life continues. Here, Song of Ceylon returns to Buddhist ceremonies and the film concludes as it began, featuring the same opening shots of the island’s plant life. In contrast, Negombo Coast is comprised of only two sections. Its opening features images of large trading ships, harbour activity, and the international trade in Ceylon’s capital, Colombo; while the bulk of the film outlines the activities of the fishermen along the Negombo coastline.

Reflecting its commercial sponsorship, one of the differences between Negombo Coast and Song of Ceylon is that the former is almost entirely concerned with labour. Several of its images of fishermen can also be seen in the second section of Song of Ceylon. However, whereas the longer film situates the men’s work within their social and cultural activities, Negombo Coast restricts itself to outlining their trade alone. For example, both films feature a multi-shot portrait of a net-caster from Duwa, described by Rachael Low as a ‘stunning sequence’ (Low, 2005, 74). In Negombo Coast each aspect of his activity is carefully outlined in the commentary, but in Song of Ceylon these images are instead accompanied by local dialect, and the film supplements a depiction of the relationship between this man and his son. It should be added that, for different reasons, neither film mentions the Catholic religion of fishermen: in Negombo Coast this is possibly because of its preoccupation with trade; in Song of Ceylon the reason might be the film’s preoccupation with the Buddhist religion of the island.

Song of Ceylon posits international trade and communications as representing a modern intrusion: ‘new clearings, new roads, new buildings, new communications, new developments of natural resources’. In Song of Ceylon the images of trading ships come in the third section, following on from the portrait of village life. In the preceding section we learn that the local men regard it ‘a great shame’ to work for hire. In this third section, however, the footage of commercial vessels is interwoven with images of plantation workers. The root of this alien commerce is indicated by the overdubbed sounds of British voices on the soundtrack, and its discordant nature is highlighted by the use of dissonant music. In contrast, Negombo Coast represents the foreign presence in Ceylon as one of the island’s traditions. The film opens with a picture of an ancient map of Ceylon and its commentary then outlines the island’s various colonisers and the fact that ‘from the 7^th century B.C. Ceylon has traded with the world’. Here the images of large trading shipsprecede the documentation of the island’s fishermen.

It is not hard to see why the commercial sponsors of Song of Ceylon would have objected to its portrayal of international commerce. However, Negombo Coast also has the effect of casting doubt on the benefits of foreign trade. Its opening section mentions tea among a roll call of products that are exported from the island. The film aims to depict Ceylon’s foreign trade in the most positive light, arguing that overseas traders have provided Ceylon with ‘the shipping facilities it needs’. Consequently, the Ceylonese have ‘never felt the need of a mercantile marine of their own’. However, the next line of the film’s commentary complicates this benign portrayal of foreign commerce: ‘they [the Ceylonese] make good sailors, however, and fishing is the chief means of livelihood of the people living in the numerous little villages along the coast’. This line of commentary is used as a bridge between the two sections of the film.  Perhaps unwittingly, it also sets up a contrast between the film’s two sections. The viewer can clearly witness the difference between the grand buildings of Colombo that service the international trade, and the basic rustic homes of the fishermen. Moreover, unlike Song of Ceylon, this is not a circular film; there is no resolution and nor does their appear to be any relationship between the world trade that takes place at Colombo, and the localised fishing trade of Colombo.

Richard Osborne (November 2009)