Insight vs. incite… an admittedly garish distinction, maybe even shallow, but when you see two films side-by-side that both tackle significant issues confronting two neighboring African countries, such a blunt and gimmicky comparison can be helpful.

In the first case – insight – we have a Korean-American filmmaker named Lee Isaac Chung making a fictional film about post-genocide Rwanda. Quiet and sensitively portrayed, Munyurangabo does with fiction what few documentaries are able to do with reality; that is, Chung presents the viewer with a series of morality tales, each one unfolding in ambiguity. This style of storytelling, one that raises questions without providing easy answers, has traditionally been the realm of documentaries. In recent years, however, the documentary seems to have become a platform for somewhat overly determined storytelling, as though the filmmakers fear their message will be misunderstood.

Which brings us to the second case – incite. We have a Dutch painter named Renzo Martens making a self-reflexive documentary about poverty in Congo. Called Enjoy Poverty, Martens presents a plausible thesis that the West has commodified poverty to the extent that Africa could now start exporting it for profit. Hence, “enjoy poverty” enough to see it as a business and then wrest that business from Western hands. I saw this film at Hot Docs, but it will also play at Silverdocs. If you’re planning to go, I would definitely check it out.

At one point Martens trains a number of young photographers to take pictures of children in the grip of starvation and disease, instead of taking pictures of weddings and baptisms as they had done in the past. He then makes a misguided attempt to sell the photos to Doctors Without Borders. (Why he didn’t knock on the door of any number of news organizations is a little puzzling.) Though it’s an unsuccessful attempt, it does provide a concise illustration of Martens general beef with foreign aid services and with the exposure of poverty in our press. It also effectively reveals poverty as a commodity to the audience and to the Congolese photographers.

Unlike Martens, Chung actually succeeds at training young Africans in a trade that might help them make a living, while Martens seems to really enjoy theorizing about such a project, or even dreaming about it. I wonder what it would be like to have Chung and Martens speak to each other and exchange filmmaking ideas.

This is not meant to be a slight on Martens at all. I love antics and could really feel Martens playfulness in the face of tragedy. It’s something close to satire. His storytelling technique is admirable and challenging, and his ability to incite conversations about poverty is much stronger than Chung’s. This is in part because he calls presumed ethics into question. Martens is an effective and cunning provocateur and I’m sure I will go see any other films he may make. And when he’s not jumping around with his camera, he also has an eye for still shots, beautiful shots, perhaps inspired by his background as a painter.

I think what fascinates me about these two films is the blending of reality and fiction. In Chung’s case, the honorable efforts of an invisible director are hidden from the audience. In Martens’ case, the deliberately dishonorable efforts of a visible director are laid bare. Both have their ethical merits and both are well worth seeing.

You can still catch Munyurangabo at Anthology Film Archives this week in New York City. Only a few days left!