- Well, I'm delighted to have in the studio with me today
award-winning photojournalist Kevin Carter.
We've read a lot about the so called Bang Bang Club.
ls there in fact such a club?
- Um, I mean, this, it's just a label.
I mean, almost a joke really.
Somebody called us that, and... We go out together...
on assignments
and so we're always together.
You know, safety in numbers. That's the idea.
- And are you competitive amongst yourselves?
I mean, do you compete? - Oh yeah.
Everybody, at the end of the day,
wants to come back with the best shot.
- So Kevin, what do you think makes a photograph great?
- Hmm...
- Kevin?
(radio): Soweto residents say that in the early hours of this morning,
members of the Inkatha Freedom Party attacked sections of Soweto,
known to be sympathetic to the ANC.
Armed with hangers and spears and wearing their signature red headbands,
the Inkatha warriors marched into a number of residential areas--
(people shouting)
(screeching tires)
- Go!
(people shouting)
(camera shutter clicking)
- Hey, bru! Get out of my fuckin' frame.
- Sorry!
- Who are you? - Greg Marinovich.
- Kevin. Kevin Carter.
- Pleasure. (camera shutters clicking)
- Who are you working for? - I'm freelance.
- No shit.
Hey, are we finished here? - Yeah.
- Looks like it.
- lgnore him. Chief photographer at The Star.
- Yeah, I know.
- Now he's all pissed off 'cause he missed the action.
- Kevin, you ready? - Coming!
Forget the long lens, bru. Stuff only looks good up close.
Good luck.
- Thanks, bru.
(singing in the background)
Hey, gents.
Why'd they kill him?
- They don't need a reason.
We are ANC and they are lnkatha.
Zulus.
- Thanks.
- Where are you going?
- I'm going to go talk to them, in the hostel.
- That's a shortcut to heaven.
- Ah well. I want to see for myself.
(boy speaking in local dialect)
What's that mean?
- I'll tell them what happened to you.
(dog barking)
- Hello.
(speaking in local dialect)
(people shouting)
(fast-paced music, drum beats)
Hello.
- What do you want here, man?
- I'm press.
I'm press. (speaking in local dialect)
Please, please... - Ay, ay, ay, ay...
- I'm a photographer. l just... I just want to talk.
(speaks indistinctly)
Why are you here?
- I'm a photographer. I'm just looking for some pictures.
(local dialect)
(laughter) (men conversing with each other)
- Sit down.
- Thanks. - Yeah...
- Hey, what's this?
(men conversing in local dialect)
(whistling) (man raising his voice)
(laughter)
- Drink, drink, drink.
(laughter)
(local dialect)
(laughter)
- What are you going to do with our picture?
- I want to tell lnkatha's side of the story.
(local dialect)
- Why you don't do like all the other journalists do?
They're going to the township and they speak to the clevers,
the ANC comrades. Why? - No, no, no.
l want to hear your side of the story.
Can I ask what happened today?
(local dialect)
- You must listen and I want you to understand.
You see?
We, we come here for one reason.
One reason only.
To work.
And these comrades, the Mandela boys,
they are telling us not to go to work.
They say we must join the stay-away.
Now what if we get expelled from our jobs?
Are they going to give us money to take care of our children?
Are they going to give us money to take care of our families back home?
(men shouting, agreeing with each other in local dialect)
- My brother was stopped by this comrade.
He was from the shop, carrying the plastic bag full of food.
They told him that there was a boycott,
so he should not go and buy food.
After that, you know what they did?
They made him drink cooking oil and paraffin
and also they pushed washing powder in his mouth.
(local dialect)
(shouting angrily)
(chanting)
(local dialect)
- What kind of a place is this
where children, they tell their elders what to do?
l mean, what kind of a place is this where children do not obey their parents?
Today we taught them a very good lesson.
(men shouting in local dialect)
(cheering and shouting)
(rhythmic music)
(camera shutter clicking)
(laughter)
(camera shutter clicking)
- Ay, ay, ay, ay... (local dialect)
- No? (local dialect)
Okay, okay.
(cheering and shouting)
(whistling)
(people shouting)
What's going on?
- He's the enemy. He's been shooting at everybody.
- I don't hear any shots. (local dialect)
(shouting)
(camera shutter clicking)
(local dialect)
- Not a problem. Not a problem.
(local dialect)
(singing, whistling)
- He's not Zulu.
He's a Xhosa like Mandela. He deserves to die.
Goodbye, my friend.
(local dialect)
- Shoot us.
(camera shutter clicking)
(local dialect)
- I'm looking for the photo editor. - Just in there.
(knocking) - Excuse me?
I'm looking for the photo editor.
- I'm Robin Comley.
I'm the picture editor.
- Hey. My new china. How's it?
- How's it, bru? - What do you want, man?
- I've got some pictures from inside the hostel.
- ln the hostel? You don't mean inside?
- Yeah, inside. - Are you serious?
- Fuck.
You must be out of your mind.
- Let's see them.
Ken, show him the dark room.
- Let's go.
- Went in!
- They're fantastic, Ron.
- Absolutely.
Oh, fuck me. I can't use them.
Our readers might find it a bit much over their Rice Krispies tomorrow morning.
- Ron, are you ever gonna grow some?
- We can use this one and this one as a Sunday feature.
We don't get images like this every day.
- Yeah. All right. Maybe.
Just show me a layout.
- The framing's weak.
Half of them are soft.
Kev.
Greg, do you have a portfolio?
- Sure.
- So which way did you get in, bru?
- I could see where they were going and I just followed them.
- So did anyone stop you?
Were they cool with you? - I thought they were going to kill me, yeah,
but I could shoot for the most part. - Fuck!
-It's not bad. - Fucking Speen is back, man.
- I was shooting some old time rituals.
lt's a circumcision ceremony there.
- You shoot colour too, huh?
- Yeah, but this isn't the F64 club, bru.
- Yeah, what he means is our shit doesn't sit still. Not like this.
l like this stuff.
lt's not bad.
Okay, I'm out of here.
l think it's going to be better if we go in earlier.
Everybody else can sleep late and file shit.
I'll see you there, bru.
Cheers, Rob. - Cheers.
- Joao. Joao Silva.
- Pleasure.
- Well...
l told you to get in close, didn't l? - You did, yeah.
- Well done, bru. Well done.
The, ah... the bill... l don't have my wallet...
- I got it, Kev, I got it. - Thank you.
- Did I just get a job?
- No. Only Ken and Kevin are full-time.
But I'll give you the same deal as Joao. On days that you work for us,
I'll pay you a day rate.
You get paid the same if we use all of your pics or none of them.
But you can sell what we don't to AP or Reuters.
That's where you make your real money.
Here.It's for today's pics.
Shit.
- Why did you go out there today?
- Because it scared me.
- Because it scared you?
Do you always do things just because they scare you?
- Not always, but sometimes.
Can I buy you dinner?
- Can you afford to buy me dinner?
- Oh, I can now.
- This time I'll buy you dinner. Use that to buy yourself a better camera.
We'll have to make it quick. l have to be back at work in 40 minutes.
(camera shutter clicking)
- Why don't you just get a new strap, bru? - Because it's leather.
I'm ready. I'm ready.
- The new guy.
- How's it? - New gear?
- Yeah. - Oh.
Ready for some fun?
One second.
lt protects...
the advance mechanism on the bottom.
l just saved you money on resale, bru.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
- How's it, Greg?
- How's it?
- Nice camera, man. - Thanks, bru.
- So what's the weather report?
- They say there's about 2,000 lnkatha warriors
two clicks from here.
They're heavily armed. They're on their way to the comrades.
Let's go.
- Yeah. - Let's go!
- Hey, Joao, is that a fucking scanner?
- Yeah.
- You're a criminal degenerate, you know that?
(chuckling) lf the cops catch us with that,
they'll put us in fucking jail, man. - Well if they stop us,
it belongs to the new guy. - Thanks.
-It's down there.
Right there.
- Ah, what have we got here?
(people shouting, banging on the van)
- This is fun.
- Just smile and be cool.
Press on foot. Press.
lt's press, eh?
Press on foot.
Press.
Press, eh? Press. - They're using muti.
(singing)
- They think it makes them invulnerable.
- That's where they are, on the right.
- Ah, shit. Here they come. - All right.
- Just park on the right there. - Yeah.
(sighing)
- Okay. Here we go.
(people shouting)
- You ready?
- Yeah. - Are you sure?
- Yeah.
(people singing, cheering)
(whistling)
Watch him.
lt's all about reading the moment.
Watch him, man. He's the best.
He always works from the outside in.
(camera shutter clicking)
And when it peaks...
You're there.
lt's a thing of beauty, my friend.
Then, you shoot a black frame.
That just simply tells the desk that's your best shot.
Let's go find one ourselves. Huh?
(crowd screaming)
(gunfire, screaming)
- That's an army-issue R1 .
- Where the fuck are they getting the guns?
- What the fuck do you care, man? lt doesn't matter.
Just take the picture.
(camera shutter clicking)
(singing, screaming, gunfire)
(camera shutters clicking)
(gunfire)
- I guess the muti isn't working so well this morning.
- They still think it's working fine, just not for them.
(gunfire, singing, screaming)
(metallic noise)
(trucks approaching)
(machine-gun fire)
(people shouting)
(camera shutter clicking)
- Go.
(camera shutter clicking)
(gunfire)
- Can't you at least pretend to be scared?
(gunfire) (chuckling)
(rock music)
- Cool.
I heard about this new disco
So I really wanted to dance
I just want to go in and see my friend Romeo in there
Hiya
But when I phoned up my honey
She kept talking to me about other men
- Come, let's grab a drink. Let's get a drink.
It made me sore I couldn't believe my ears
So I felt real mad. . .
- Joao!
Hi, I'm Viv. You must be Greg.
- Yeah, hi.
- So you decided to join up with these crazies, eh?
(laughter) - Ken!
- I want you meet someone.
- So is this the young man?
- Greg, this is Alf Khumalo.
-It's really nice to meet you, sir. lt's an honor.
l know your photographs well.
- How are you feeling with our big chief?
- You're not gonna tell him what a racist bastard I am, are you?
- Well, you still young, Ken, you'll get over it, you know.
- So Ken, another whitey photographer making money
off the spilled blood of Africans, eh?
- Ah, Sonny. Cool it.
(local dialect)
Let him be.
- Fuck it. I'm too thirsty to have this argument.
Promised this oke a drink. Alf, Sonny, Thoko.
- Cheers.
- See you guys later. - Welcome, Greg.
- Thanks, sir.
- Two beers, please.
- Whew, what was that about?
- Ah, it's much harder if you're a black photographer.
- Here you go. - There you go, bru.
- Thanks.
- lf you're an lnkatha supporter, the ANC comrades want to kill you.
lf you're ANC, the lnkatha Zulus want to kill you.
So really, there's always somebody
who wants to kill you. Doesn't matter whose side you're on.
And you...
You're lucky 'cause you're white.
As you've shown,
you can go anywhere.
School's out, china. Let's drink.
Cheers, man. - Cheers!
- You're Ken Oosterbroek, aren't you?
Yeah.
- Hi. - Hi.
(clears throat)
- This is Greg. Greg, Sam.
- Pleasure.
(humming)
Where will you be when the saviour comes
Will you be on your knees or behind a gun
Will you be happy to see him
Or will you want to run
Will you be afraid of what the people say
When you look at what the people have done
And if you chance
To meet him
Will you know he's the one
That you have been seeking
Is it love Whoa whoa whoa
Whoa whoa That you want
Will you feel his spirit in the air
Will it take you...
Na na na na na na...
-It's Kevin's.
-It's great. - Yeah.
Come and see this.
I'm calling it Our Hidden War.
These are the shots I'm gonna use.
Three of them are yours.
- Shit.
You should use this one too.
- Hands off.
- And, ah... that one.
- Stop. Stop it.
- They'll never let you run this. - They have to.
These pictures are gonna show up on front pages all over the world.
We'll look like idiots if we don't use them ourselves.
We don't know what the government will do.
(sighing)
We have no idea what we can get away with.
- Oh, so you want to see what you can get away with?
- You're a fucking troublemaker, you know that?
- ls it? - Yeah.
l don't date photographers.
- Yeah?
- You keep terrible hours,
you drink too much and you're crazy.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
And then there's some bad stuff too.
(sighing)
(paper flapping)
(rock music)
- Not too much to report but anger and pain
and thinking, "Where's the way out?"
How do we get out of this mess?
Bloody little daylight in the daylight, if you catch my drift.
But tonight, my brus,
tonight the moon is high.
You can see the new century coming towards us
and it sounds like this.
(rock music)
Can't get the stink off
He's been hanging round for days
Comes like a comet
Suckered you but not your friends
- You don't tell anyone about this.
One day he'll get to you and teach you...
- She knows what she's doing. Anyway, it's about time.
- You know, I always thought it was gonna be me.
- Kev, it was never gonna be you, man.
- But Robin and the new guy?
- Yeah, the new guy.
(laughing)
- How's it? - How's it?
- Yeah. How's it?!
- Out with it! - Come on!
- What? What? - Sex with Robin.
Okay, we make you join our little club and then...
- You're in the club now. - I have no idea what you're talking about.
(rhythmic music)
Bang bang
(camera shutter clicking)
Bang bang...
(weeping)
(rhythmic music continues)
You're mad.
There's cops in there.
- Go on,
they're too shit scared to come out.
Believe me.
(man in vehicle):It's marijuana!
- Did you catch my show last night?
Every... fucking cut, every one.
Stones, every cut.
- Kevin, do you ever sleep?
Can you believe it? Can you fucking believe it?
- Kev, shut up. (woman wailing)
- Shadows.
(camera shutter clicking)
Fuck! - What's wrong?
- I thought he was still alive.
- He's dead. lt's just a body spasm.
(camera shutter clicking)
Kev, if you've got the shot, move on, man.
(clears throat)
(shutter clicking)
(train approaching)
- Ugh!
- Who is he? - He's lnkatha.
- Are you sure? - He's Zulu.
- Yeah he's Zulu, but how do you know he's lnkatha?
- We know him. We are sure.
(kicking) - Ugh! Ugh!
(camera shutter clicking)
(stabbing)
- Stop it! Stop!
- Stop taking pictures.
- Yeah, I'll stop taking pictures when you stop killing him.
- You saw what they did to us.
- What if he's not guilty? - Doesn't matter.
lt will be a warning for the next ones.
(mob yelling)
(thud)
(camera shutter clicking) (man groaning)
- Greg, behind you!
Greg!
Get out of there!
(camera shutter clicking)
- Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
He's burning. He's burning.
So I ran after him. The sun was right behind him.
Didn't have time to check my meter, so I press the button.
l just kept thinking F 5.6, F 5.6.
l started to frame for my next shot.
Just then, this guy runs up with a fucking panga...
and brings it down on his head.
- You're shaking.
- But at least I've got the pictures.
- Greg you know we're not going to be able to use the pictures.
They're too graphic. - Then what the fuck am I doing out there?
lt wasn't my call. - Yeah, I know, but fuck!
(applause)
- Ah, there he is!
There's the little fucker.
- lt was fucking mal out there today, huh?
- Okay.
Tell him.
- I sent your pictures to AP, they sent it to London.
They wanted every fucking shot you took today.
Do you know what that means? - What?
- Your shots all over the world.
(laughter) - You're joking.
-It's payday, buddy.
- A joke... - Money! Money, baby!
- Yes! Woo! - Yes! Greg!
You did it!
(rhythmic music) Bang bang...
- Robin Comly.
Robin Comly, is she here?
- Yes.
I'm Robin. - I'm looking for Greg Marinovich.
- What do you want him for?
- He has taken a photograph of a crime. l want him and the rolls of film.
- Greg is freelance. He comes and goes.
And we didn't use this particular picture,
so I don't think we can help you.
- A crime was committed.
A man brutally murdered.
We intend to obtain his photographs and identify the perpetrators.
l have here a 205 subpoena
which compels Mr. Marinovich to testify or face arrest.
By law, you must sign to acknowledge receipt.
Make sure he gets it.
- Shit. - We've got no choice.
We have to notify the police that we've seen you.
- Are you okay?
- I don't know, bru. - What you gonna do?
- I'm not fucking testifying.
l mean, I don't like what they did, but I'm not fucking helping the cops.
- Just give them the photographs.
- Fuck that. - What do you want to be a hero for?
- There's only one reason why he shouldn't.
lf he gives them the photographs and if he testifies,
the next day, in every township, on every street, we're all targets.
We'll have taken sides.
(sighing)
- I think you should make yourself scarce for a while.
(camera shutter clicking)
Hi.
- Came off the telex 1 0 minutes ago. lt's a Pulitzer.
- You're joking?
- No, I'm not. - They can't arrest him now.
Too much publicity. - Well, do you know where he is?
- Yeah.
- So what are you waiting for? Give him a call.
(all): Yeah!
- Another one for Greg! Pulitzer boy! (all): Yeah!
Woo!
- Yes! - Go, Kev! Kev, Kev, Kev, Kev!
(tinkling) - Thank you...
Listen, can l, can l, can I say a couple of words?
Hello?
l just-l just want to say a couple of words.
I'm Ronald Graham,
and for those of you who don't know, I'm the editor of The Star.
And I just want to add my... (applause)
l'd just like to add my voice to the congratulations for Greg.
You know, winning a Pulitzer is no small thing.
You know we are very, very proud of Greg.
Even though we weren't
the people who published the photos in the first place.
(crowd booing) - Big mistake!
- Oops!It's our mistake.
- Your mistake.
- But I think we're forgiven because Greg is here tonight.
Actually, you know, Greg, when you, ah...
When you went off to New York to collect your prize,
a lot of us thought you weren't gonna come back again,
but here you are.
- I had to come back, Ronnie. There's no bang bang over there.
(cheering)
- Congratulations! lt's well deserved!
- Woo!
- So, congratulations, Greg. That was awesome.
- Oh, thank you. l appreciate that.
- Ah, fuck, Greg. Screw your award.
Your fucking photograph, it's everywhere.
The government is using it to show
how we animals cannot govern ourselves. How the fuck do you like that?
- Sonny, leave it. - Even the ANC says
it's a white man's photo taken for white man's purposes.
- Sonny, it's not his fault. - ls that what you think?
- Let him enjoy his moment, man. - Sonny, is that what you think?
- Forgive him, Greg.