BFI London Review: Kevin B. Lee's First Feature, Afterlives, Examines Terrorist Propaganda.

      Much of filmmaking and film-viewing comes down to either offering your gaze to another or accepting that offer as an audience member––a process that, when executed effectively, happens so swiftly and seamlessly that one can easily overlook its foundation in mutual consent. Turning away, closing your eyes and ears, leaving the room, or shutting the tab might seem straightforward and harmless outside the framework of viewing, but what effective cinema shares with the violent images circulating on our feeds is how disturbingly captivating they are, to the detriment of the viewer. Afterlives, Kevin B. Lee’s debut feature, which is part of the BFI London Film Festival’s Experimenta program following its world premiere in DocLisboa, questions if it's possible to experience such images without explicitly displaying them; to engage with them without evasion.

      The themes of ethics and spectatorship are central to Bottled Songs, a collaborative effort between filmmakers and media researchers Lého Galibert-Laîné and Lee, who sought methods to comprehend online terrorist propaganda, particularly videos from the Islamic State (ISIS). Like Lee’s previous works (e.g., Transformers: The Premake), Bottled Songs is a desktop documentary that captures interactions, inquiries, and thoughts directly on a computer screen, supplemented by a voiceover that discusses today's complex media landscape for viewers and consumers. Afterlives builds upon this motivation, presenting it as a feature-length documentary that employs not just desktop aesthetics but also found footage and filmed content––including interviews and explorative scenes that contribute to Lee’s understanding. Renowned for his video essay practice, particularly within the desktop documentary style, he adheres to the essayistic principle in Afterlives through a form of self-reflection that transcends the singular perspective. Essentially, the film opens with him attempting to navigate the role of a viewer of ISIS videos, moving beyond typical identification tropes and gradually shifting from the “I” to accommodate other voices.

      Among those other voices is journalist and political educator Nava Zarabian, who focuses on online safety and monitoring of terrorist content, and Anne Speckhard, Director of the International Center for the Study of Violent Extremism, who interviews ex-ISIS members, returnees, and prisoners. Both invite Lee into their homes for discussions about their work, allowing the film to provide viewers with enough contextual insight to engage with the deeper dialogues occurring on camera. Yet, Lee remains aware of the lurking specter of violence that shadows those he meets, preventing any prolonged sense of safety in conceptualizing.

      Afterlives conducts both metaphorical and literal excavations into the history of terrorist propaganda and their anticipated future; many individuals Lee encountered in 2014 have since vanished from the online world. A notable sequence illustrates the limitations of technology, showing Lee prompting an AI image generator to recreate visuals that have since disappeared from the virtual realm, yielding polished results that are somewhat deliberately less harmful. At this point, the film’s title gains sharper clarity, highlighting the idea that “crimes of the past [are] buried in images of the future,” their “afterlives” safely contained within algorithmic crypts.

      A more literal form of archaeology (albeit not entirely) characterizes Lee’s engagement with artist Morehshin Allahyari, whose 3-D-printed representation of a Medusa head he found in a German museum in 2021. Allahyari's initiative focuses on digital restoration, gathering data on artifacts destroyed by ISIS and recreating lost items as 3-D prints––she speaks about her efforts candidly but also expresses concern that this practice may be appropriated by a colonial mindset. Her concept of “violent care” is exemplified by the unveiling of a 3D-printed replica of Palmyra’s Triumphal Arch in London’s Trafalgar Square.

      However, while there is some alignment between Allahyari’s “violent care” and Lee’s fluid approach to violent imagery, Afterlives emphasizes its own complex relationship with visuals. This may explain why Lee sometimes “exits” the desktop space to appear in person, an act stemming from a respectful necessity. Regardless of the cinematic form it takes, Afterlives stands as a contemplative documentary, its urgency resonating deeply with both historical and future dimensions of imagery.

      Afterlives was showcased at the BFI London Film Festival.