In Under Fire, a new film directed by Roger Spottiswoode about the final months of Sandinista insurrection in 1979 against the American-supported dictatorship of Anastasio Somoza in Nicaragua, a hot-shot news photographer (played by Nick Nolte) finds that his personal files of unpublished photos of Sandinista rebels relaxing in their mountain hideaway have been purloined by a European intelligence agent working with the CIA. The photos have been put at the disposal of a CIAfinanced American mercenary, who uses them to identify and summarily execute anyone in his picture collection. For the photographer, the discovery of how his pictures are used comes as the final blow to his stubborn illusions of the photo-journalist's neutrality. (I don't take sides; I take pictures, has been his credo.) In The Year of Living Dangerously, Australian director Peter Weir's 1982 film about foreign correspondents covering Sukarno's Indonesia during the social unrest of 1965, a strangely androgynous, half-caste dwarf, Billy Kwan (played as a man by actress Linda Hunt) uses his skills as a photo-journalist to amass files of surreptitiously taken photographs of his friends. He muses endlessly over these pictures-and over those he has shot of Indonesia's President Sukarno, whom he greatly admires-using the photographs almost as magic talismans or fetishes, whose purpose, it would seem, is to enable him to exercise an imagined, benevolent control over the destinies of those he loves and admires. He is devastated, however, when the people who mean most to him fail to live up to his own image of them. A fascination with photographs-and with their potential use as real or imagined elements of control-is only one of the features shared by Under Fire and The Year of Living Dangerously. But it is an important one, especially in these two films dealing with highly volatile political situations in the Third World. As a point of departure, we would be wise to recall that, historically, photographs, when first printed in newspapers, were immediately r cognized-and used-by the police and the state as evidence to suppress political dissent. In 1871, when newspapers in Paris printed photographs of the crowds gathering to hear the leaders of the French Commune holding forth in the streets, the Paris police, on orders from the government, used the published photos to identify and round up both the leaders and many of their listeners. Aside from their fascination with photographs, both Under Fire and The Year of Living Dangerously concern themselves with the social and political aspirations and struggles of Third World peoples-not exactly a theme one would expect to be treated at all, much less so sympathetically, by films coming from Hollywood. (Under Fire is an Orion Pictures release; and The Year of Living Dangerously is an MGM/United Artists release.) Of the two films, Under Fire is especially timely,