Where I Come From

11 year old Mambi relies on her luck at gambling to pay off her father’s debts and save money for education in Where I Come From. However, as her father’s own gambling addiction gets worse, Mambi sacrifices her own dreams to protect her father.

The first thing I learned from watching Mambi was that English is spoken in Cameroon. All of the previous films I’ve seen from Cameroon were in French so I ignorantly assumed the whole country spoke French. The reality is that whilst around 80% of the country’s population are in French speaking regions, the 20% in the North, along the Nigerian border, speak English. The English speaking region has recently become a hotbed for film production, earning it the nickname ‘Collywood’ to differentiate itself from Nigeria’s neighboring Nollywood. Three of the industry’s films have even been bought up by Netflix: the award winning The Fisherman’s Diary, A Man for the Weekend, and Broken. Where I Come From might be hoping to join them soon.

Unfortunately the plot feels a bit too similar to a host of other African films that focus on poverty and promote education and stable family life such as Hand of Fate, Jebel Nyoka, and Shaina. Even though their situations all seem impossibly bleak, education is presented as a panacea for everything. It almost comes across as a government PSA because it feels so unrealistic given the protagonists’ circumstances. The promotion of gambling (and luck) as a solution also felt a bit off. Whenever Mambi gambles, inspirational, uplifting music starts as if it’s encouraging her to gamble. Promoting education and the luck of gambling in the same movie doesn’t match up.

Despite the cookie-cutter plot, Where I Come From is at least memorable for it’s brilliant lead performance from 11 year old Faith Fidel. She deservedly was nominated for Most Promising Actor at the African Movie Academy Awards last year and should be an actor to look out for in the future. It’s also worth noting that 95% of the film’s crew were under 30, so look out for more from Takong Delvis and his team in future.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.

Bantu Mama

In Bantu Mama, a French-Cameroonian woman is arrested in the Dominican Republic for attempting to smuggle drugs back home. However, she’s rescued by the Dominican underworld, sheltering in one of Santo Domingo’s notorious neighborhoods with a semi-orphaned family until she can make her escape.

It’s clear from the start that Bantu Mama is meant to appeal to the audiences at Western film festivals. Like European film festival fare, the images look dark and gloomy, and they carry the bulk of the narrative weight, with the sparse dialogue only covering the basic gaps the images can’t provide. There’s also a lot of movement in every shot, with no tripod or steadicam shots, and the short shot length and fast cutting verges on the speed of montage, especially in the opening. All these stylistic choices match the lean, moody looking standard of the big film festivals in Europe and North America, contrasting with the slower paced, dialogue focused African films that dominate the Pan African Film Festival in Los Angeles.

This is not to say that Bantu Mama is unoriginal; it is. Firstly, it’s incredibly efficient, telling a complete story with limited dialogue in just 77 minutes. Secondly, it’s propelled by a brilliant soundtrack of regional African music and Dominican trap. Both genres mesh together to represent the cultural dialogue with Africa that Emma, the French-Cameroonian fugitive, opens to the Afro-Latino children that shelter her. The soundtrack also creates one of the film’s most memorable moments – a visual example of this cultural link – in which Cuki is transformed into a Maasai dancer with the help of African music and Emma. In this moment, the music transports them from their dangerous neighborhood to an imagined Pan-African utopia. This is just one moment in a handful in which the soundtrack and Emma link the Dominican Republic with Africa. The cultural dialogue they create make Bantu Mama unique.

If you’re a fan of film festivals in North America or Europe and want to see a lean, music-powered cultural exchange linking the underworld of the Dominican Republic to Africa, Bantu Mama is the film you need to watch.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.

Ayinla

Ayinla is inspired by the life of Apala music legend Ayinla Omowura. Set in 1970s Abeokuta, the film charts his rise in the local, national, and international music scenes and the tribulations and ultimate tragedy that accompany his fiery character.

Whilst this film is a dramatized story about Ayinla, it starts with a number of home-video style interviews from local politicians and his friends. These are all real people talking, not actors, and their interviews are used to set up the importance of Ayinla. He’s an artist whose renown never hit the astronomical highs of Fela Kuti or King Sunny Ade, but with these interviews and the dramatized story of his life, director, and fellow Abeokuta resident, Tunde Kelani shows he’s worthy of international recognition.

The highlight of Ayinla is the music. Whilst not all of the lyrics are subtitled, you can tell that Ayinla was a playful and political lyricist from the songs that are. They’re all cut into the movie pretty smoothly and give the film the star soundtrack to promote his legacy. Kelani also shoots Abeokuta beautifully, making it appear to be a picturesque tropical city with greenery and Ulumo Rock dominating the drone shots. Another plus is that the entire film is shot in Yoruba, staying true to the region the film is based in, instead of opting for English in an attempt to appeal to an international audience.

The only downsides of this movie is that it doesn’t feel complete. It feels more like a bunch of episodes of Ayinla’s life that have been pieced together. The only thin plot-line is that of Ayinla preparing for his trip to London, but even this only begins to guide the story in the final part of the movie. As pointed out by Vivian Nneka Nwajiaku for afrocritik the film also introduces a lot of plot points that are never developed – such as Ayinla’s pregnant wife. Luckily the music for the most part covers up for the lack of plot.

For anyone into Nigerian music, or biopic style movies on making it in the music industry, Ayinla is worth a watch. It’s a decent tribute to both Ayinla Omowura and Abeokuta, the colorful city that both the director and the music star share.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.

Tales of the Accidental City

Four people from different sides of Nairobi join a court-ordered anger management class with Counsellor Rose in Tales of the Accidental City. They each bring their own stories and banter to the Zoom call to create a quick one-location comedic overview of Nairobi society.

As called out in the opening titles, Tales of the Accidental City was originally created for the stage. It was adapted for film following the start of COVID-19 as the pandemic forced theaters to shut. It still resembles a play, as the focus is on the conversation and takes place completely in the single ‘location’ of a Zoom call. However, one benefit of converting Tales of the Accidental City for film is that all viewers are close enough to see the actors facial expressions. These are crucial for communicating the humor of the film which relies on the quick banter between characters. Without the close-ups we wouldn’t be able to see clearly how each of the character’s react to each other.

The humor seems to be built around local stereotypes with each of the 5 characters (including Counsellor Rose) representing a different part of Nairobi society. Louis represents the political elite, and fulfills the snobby, self-important stereotype. Counsellor Rose represents the Kenyan version of the cultural appropriating white hippie with Buddha poster on her wall and doing yoga to meditative music and candles. Jacinda’s character seems to be mocking the devout Christians of the middle class whilst Diana and Sarah represent the mothers and youth of the working class. Each character is exaggerated through their manner and their zoom backgrounds to create the associations with the stereotypes. Their equally flowing banter then makes fun of each of them, and the segments of Nairobi society they belong to.

If you’re looking for a simple Kenyan comedy, Tales of the Accidental City is worth a watch. Whilst the film is confined to the Zoom meeting room, it playfully makes fun of a few stereotypes of the city, giving the audience a few laughs and a small understanding of Nairobi society.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.

Hairareb

Hairareb follows the relationship between Hairareb, a middle-aged farmer, and Innis, his new bride. As they begin to get comfortable with their new life together, the secrets behind their marriage and from their past lives roll out into the open, creating a whirlwind of trouble for their budding relationship. Can they weather the storm, or will they fall back to the mistakes they made in the past?

There’s a lot going on in the opening scenes of the movie. The opening scene shows a man riding a horse into the sunset accompanied by a loud soundtrack and voiceover like a Hollywood Western. It introduces us to Hairareb’s narrative voice. The next shows a young man unlocking a chest of someone’s mementos. It’s not clear whose mementos or how he’s related to them. The film doesn’t give too many clues in the next few scenes either as it jumps straight to Hairareb and Innis’ wedding. From there, the jumping back and forth stops for a while, until the film delves into the two main character’s past lives, which by this point at least, helps to clear up some of the confusion from the start of the film and provide a bit of character development. However, for the most part, Hairareb feels unfocused. The drought, relationships, character backstories, and life in rural Namibia are all sacrificed for the sake of creating domestic melodrama, leaving the film feeling pretty hollow.

As you’ll notice from the start, this is a domestic melodrama. The loud soundtrack and overwrought narrative voice give that away. The use of a narrator feels a bit unnecessary at times, as everything Hairareb says could be built into a more natural script. It feels like it has been included to cut corners in the character building and plot to advance the plot quicker. It’s also always full of writing that feels a bit overdone, especially when it’s read alongside an overbearing soundtrack that doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. The soundtrack also often gives away the direction of the scenes before they’re acted out. Upbeat musical interludes play a few scenes before the newlyweds are happy and the villains are given away before the reveals by the loud ominous soundtrack accompanying their face on screen. A little more subtlety may have created a bigger surprise for these reveals, however, viewers used to melodramas may not be as put off by these moments as it’s all part of the fun.

The language choices were also interesting. Whilst the film was mostly shot in English, there were some moments where the cast started speaking the indigenous Khoekhoe language. Presumably English was chosen for the film’s marketability abroad, but why not then just run the whole film in English for this reason? The Khoekhoegowab words seemed to be included randomly and not for certain characters or moments so it wasn’t clear why they were included. If the director wanted to include the language, it would have been great to have used Khoekhoe throughout the movie. I don’t believe it would have made much of a difference to the international audience viewing it and maybe the actors would have been more comfortable using it.

Overall, if you’re looking for a Namibian domestic melodrama, you’ve come to the right place. Every scene of Hairareb is filled with it, from the music to the relationship reveals. There’s also some beautifully framed shots of rural Namibia to showcase the landscape. However, if you’re not familiar with the domestic melodrama genre you’ll probably find this example overdone and lacking in substance.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.