Boniface “Softie” Mwangi was drawn to political activism during his time photographing the post election violence in 2007. Now, he’s running for office in a regional Kenyan election. To succeed, he has to radically change a democracy tainted by corruption, violence, and mistrust. This documentary follows his journey as he campaigns to reform Kenyan politics whilst struggling to hold his family together.
Unlike other political documentaries like Knock Down the House and The Great Hack where Western viewers might have a bit of familiarity with the focus (the Democratic “Blue Wave” of the 2018 House elections and the Cambridge Analytica controversy respectively), Softie’s story is unknown. Western media rarely covers the political protests and uprisings in Africa – especially sub-Saharan Africa where pro-U.S. dictators reside. Therefore, Softie has to do a bit more than these other films to get you up to speed with Kenyan politics. Luckily Boniface’s life is a kind of awakening to the national political situation, so this is covered within his story – his life as a photographer led him to political activism, and his political activism led him to run in the elections. The filmmakers concisely fill in the gaps – British colonialism creating a nation governed by tribalism – to flesh out a more complete picture.
The majority of Softie takes place during his campaign for office. It documents a lot of the day to day tasks of campaigning much like Kazuhiro Soda’s Campaign – from handing out flyers and greeting locals to securing funds to keep it going. However it’s not quite as focused on just the campaign, as we also follow Boniface’s wife (Njeri) and children on a personal level as they bounce between Kenya and the U.S. to escape death threats. It feels like we have almost unrestricted access to both Boniface and Njeri’s personal lives. Boniface first tells Njeri of his goal to run for office on camera (her reaction gives that away) and we’re often closer to Njeri and their children in the U.S. than Boniface is in Kenya making it feel like we know their emotions better than their other halves. It almost feels like we’re the relationship mediator between them at times. This personal, emotional layer emphasizes the challenges of trying to build a family whilst focused on your career, allowing us to empathize with them much more.
The other negative plus that Softie has on the U.S. political documentaries is that the political situation in Kenya is more immediately dangerous than those in Knock Down the House and The Great Hack. Boniface’s life always feels in danger of being extinguished by his political rivals, as journalists and people linked to the voting systems are murdered whilst his story is told. The higher stakes make this film more urgent and tense. It sometimes feels like we’re watching a hagiography of someone that will be martyred.
If you’re looking for an observational documentary that follows a political activist trying to change a corrupt system by running for government and the effects this has on their family, Softie is the film for you.
Here’s a small selection of quick fire reviews of a selection of the Sundance Film Festival Shorts we caught at the 2021 virtual edition of Sundance.
Lizard (Nigeria)
An 8 year old girl with an ability to sense danger gets kicked out of Sunday School service. In her boredom, she wanders around the church complex and unwittingly uncovers the underbelly of a Mega Church in Lagos.
There are a lot of films that capture a kid’s perspective, but rarely do they make you feel like your inside the kid’s head. Lizard does just that, immersing the viewer in the curious mind of an 8 year old girl wandering a church complex in Lagos. We’re distracted by the visions in her imagination which lead us into places we shouldn’t be. However, our older minds, more than hers, can see the underbelly of the church that she doesn’t. The grainy footage helps draw the viewer in by creating the same look as home videos from the 80’s and 90’s, making it instantly feel more personal. If you’re after an immersive, magical realism infused glimpse of the hidden side of Lagos, seek out Lizard.
In the Air Tonight (U.S.A)
A ghost story, a simulation, a message unspooling from a fax machine: In the Air Tonight recreates the apocryphal narrative of the origins of Phil Collins’ anthemic ‘80s mega-hit, via the voiceover of an “artist friend” nicknamed Slipperman.
The film’s description above does a pretty good job of describing exactly what In the Air Tonight is, but only really makes sense once you’ve seen the film. It helps to have know Phil Collins’ hit, In The Air Tonight before watching this, as the director knows you’ll be waiting for the song’s crescendo. When it comes, it’s accompanied by one of the most obnoxiously over-the-top sequences I’ve ever seen. In this context, after telling a strangely curious fake story about the former pop superstar, it comes as a humongous bang of a punchline, which depending on your humor, is incredibly hilarious or incredibly stupid.
The Longest Dream I Remember (Mexico)
As Tania leaves her hometown, she must confront what her absence will mean in the search for her disappeared father.
In The Longest Dream I Remember, the feeling of the film is much more memorable than what’s going on. It captures the haunting melancholy of the search for a lost relative. Without any more clues to get closer to finding her father, the film instead tries to piece together memories to reconstruct her lost father. This way of processing comes across as more eerie than sad, as the ambiguity of his disappearance keeps them from achieving closure.
You Wouldn’t Understand (U.S.A)
An idyllic picnic for one is upended after the suspicious arrival of a stranger.
Time loop stories are fun to watch when they make sense, and luckily You Wouldn’t Understand doesn’t run for long enough to get confusing. In fact, if anything, it could run a little longer. It also contains just enough of a ‘something’s not quite right’ feeling to keep you watching.
Misery Loves Company (South Korea)
As Seolgi is lying on a grass field with friends, a shooting star falls, and dark, intrusive thoughts hit her. Her melancholy blooms into bright and colorful ‘flower people,’ dancing and wishing for a meteorite to end the world.
In just 3 minutes, Misery Loves Company animates the thoughts of a depressed high school girl wishing for an easy way to end the monotony of life. However, as depressing as it sounds, the animation is surprisingly uplifting with flower headed people celebrating the imagined end of the world to Seolgi’s singing. It reminded me a bit of the Blockhead’s ‘The Music Box’ – another colorfully animated music video with depressing undertones.
Ghost Dogs (U.S.A)
A family’s new rescue pup is terrorized by deceased pets in this odd-ball horror.
If you’re a fan of dogs and horror movies, and can appreciate a good animation, you should like Ghost Dogs. Firstly, the animation is brilliantly eerie. It looks a bit like a The Simpsons Halloween special gone awry with the dogs looking a bit too human and the house a bit too off balance and vibrantly colored. However, the tension built off the uncanniness is offset by a few moments which play off the horror genre nicely – what seems scary to us isn’t necessarily scary for our rescue pup.
Five Tiger (South Africa)
Set in present day South Africa, Five Tiger tells the story of Fiona, a god-fearing woman, who finds herself in a transactional relationship with the leader of her church as she tries to support her daughter and her sick husband.
Like Lizard, Five Tiger depicts the questionable side to Christianity in Africa. Fiona is stuck in a loop of exploitation she’s unwilling to escape, symbolized in a 50 Rand bill – which equates to roughly $3 – as it transfers hands between her and the church. Five Tiger’s story is shot well, and told concisely, with just enough subtlety in it’s portrayal of Fiona’s situation to keep the viewer feeling clever for understanding what’s going on.
Excuse Me Miss, Miss, Miss (Philippines)
Vangie, a miserable contractual sales lady, is about to lose her job. But in her desperate attempt to persuade her boss not to sack her, Vangie uncovers the ultimate secret to keeping it.
Excuse Me Miss, Miss, Miss carries a light humor that felt very similar to last year’s Filipino festival hit, Death of Nintendo. There’s bright colors, characters you can laugh at, and creepy supernatural events. However, instead of teenage boys, this short follows a young woman working at an empty mall. If you can handle a bit of silly humor, and are intrigued by the supernatural twist, give this one a shot.
The Fourfold (Canada)
Based on the ancient animistic beliefs and shamanic rituals in Mongolia and Siberia, The Fourfold is an exploration of the indigenous worldview and wisdom. Against the backdrop of the modern existential crisis and the human-induced rapid environmental change, there is a necessity to reclaim the ideas of animism for planetary health and non-human materialities.
The animation of The Fourfold reminded me of the arts and crafts classes from primary school; it feels very home-made. In this sense, animating leaves, textiles, and other materials feels like a perfect fit for the narrative of animistic spirituality. However, the visuals don’t compensate for the lack of a tangible narrative to follow in the voice-over, leaving the film feeling a bit too ethereal.
For more from films outside of the Sundance Film Festival shorts head to our Sundance 2021 page.
Taming the Garden is a slow documentary about a billionaire’s project to create a garden of the grandest trees in his country. Bidzina Ivanishvili, the billionaire, and former Prime Minister of Georgia, is the invisible villain of this film, as we follow the construction teams that uproot trees around the country and transport them across seas to his home.
As you’d expect from the poster, the visuals in Taming the Garden are almost unbelievable. It’s not often that you see huge old trees floating on the sea or driven down country roads. These images are more than enough to keep you engaged with the slow pace of the rest of the film. However, it’s a shame most viewers weren’t able to see it on the big screen.
The slow pace of the film shows no sign of a director. Instead, the focus is on the people on the construction team and the local people affected by their project. In between the shots of the trees we hear the conversations and opinions of the locals. It exposes us to a bit of the Georgian psyche – that what’s happening is just another cruel fate that they can’t avoid. Their complaints sound like a group of neighbors gossiping about their hated neighbor.
You can understand why they’re complaining. This invisible billionaire is buying and disappearing the most beautiful trees from their neighborhoods. They’re all trees that have taken centuries to grow, trees with sentimental value, that hold memories from their childhood. Whether it’s taken for granted or not prior to their removal, they give some sort of happiness to the local communities. Their removal therefore uproots some of the memories and happiness it holds, leaving an empty feeling in it’s place. In contrast to the time it takes for these huge trees to grow, Ivanishvili shows that money can quickly take them away.
The kicker of this movie comes in the final scene, when we finally get to see Ivanishvili’s garden. Ivanishvili is still nowhere to be seen. The only people we can see are gardeners patrolling the humongous property in golf carts. They’re the only people that see the beauty of the trees now, and now that they’re placed by so many other beautiful trees, they hardly stand out.
That’s not to say the garden isn’t beautiful. It is. The place, shrouded in mist, appears like a tree heaven that these trees have been transported to in their old age. The immense wealth of Ivanishvili has given him the power to create a garden of Eden. He’s created a garden in a few years which should have taken centuries to create. That it exists, demonstrates the power of a billionaires impatience. And that it exists alongside the rural poverty he’s taken them from highlights the inequality in the country.
If you’re looking for an inspirational documentary that follows a group of trailblazing women in India, consider Writing with Fire. It follows a group of Dalit women – Dalits being the lowest caste in the Indian caste system – that start a newspaper in Uttar Pradesh, one of India’s largest and most politically important states. The newspaper, Khabar Lahariya, stands out from the others both because it’s written only by women and because of its emphasis to seek out the truth no matter what.
It starts with one of the paper’s lead journalists reporting on a local rape case. In it, we witness their reporting process. Meera first interviews the victim’s family for first hand info, then heads to the police station to press them further on the crime, before beginning to form a report. We see this process a few times throughout the film as they interview politicians, Dalit women without sewage systems that the government has promised, and worker’s strikes. Because of the topics they shine a light on and their determination to find answers, they face a lot of trouble.
This is clear when the reporters are out in the field. One reporter has to confront one union leader who at first refuses to talk with her because she’s a woman. Another reporter covering the upcoming elections has to banter with the male politicians just to try and get comments from them. It’s clear that being patronized is a part of their day job in the patriarchal society. However, they also have to put up with it at home from husbands that berate their independent working spirit.
It’s not just the patriarchy that is framed as dangerous to the reporters as the rising Hindu nationalism within India is posed as a threat too. One example is the young member of some kind of Hindu Youth League that patrols his neighborhood armed with a machete to fight crime. His role feels a lot like the Hitler Youth from Nazi Germany. He doesn’t appear to have much direction apart from his hatred of Muslims. The rhetoric of the local politicians are equally alarming, with the directors pointing out the new state leaders remarks that Islam is intrinsically linked with Terrorism. It feels like that the freedom of Khabar Lahariya and its female journalists are threatened by the continued rise of the male dominated BJP Hindu political party.
Lastly, it’s quite interesting to see exactly how a start-up newspaper is run. In addition to seeing how they gather a story from outside, we get to see how the newspaper is run at the office. We see their daily meetings – including one where one reporter gets disciplined for a low output – and hear about their growth strategies. Currently, they’re all embracing the switch to the growing digital reality by equipping all their reporters with camera phones and giving them lessons about YouTube. As the film runs, these YouTube clips are inserted into the narrative as milestones for their growth as their subscribers rocket to a few thousand after a few weeks work.
Whilst it’s probably a bit longer than it needs to be, Writing with Fire is well worth a watch for anyone interested in learning about inspirational women battling the patriarchy around the world. If anything, you’ll learn a bit about the current state of India and running a newspaper.
Honestly, before I saw The Pink Cloud, I thought that The Dog Who Wouldn’t be Quiet was the best film related to the pandemic that I’d seen at Sundance. But then I saw The Pink Cloud. Like Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion, it’s amazing to watch something reflect reality so well before that reality comes into place. And before you ask, this film was written in 2017, way before COVID times.
In the case of The Pink Cloud, Giovanna and Yago’s one night stand turns into a long quarantine together as an unknown pink cloud of poisonous gases shrouds the city. Anyone who steps outside for more than 10 seconds dies from the pink gases. Other people less lucky that Giovanna and Yago are stuck in supermarkets and other public buildings. It’s also not just their city in Brazil that is affected either, as like the big Hollywood disaster movies, the news shows a montage of cities around the world with the same ominous pink clouds hovering over them. Like the current pandemic, everyone is forced to adjust quickly to a new life.
After it sets up the premise, The Pink Cloud focuses on Giovanna and Yago’s relationship stuck together throughout the indefinitely long quarantine. As time progresses, the bucket lists from their single lives become a checklist of things to do in a relationship. They start doing chores, cook and eat with each other, and talk about their future together. The allure and excitement that initially drew them together fades as the permanence of their new life inside sets in. As this happens, the allure of the outside, and nature, represented in the pink cloud grows. Slow montages of the cloud frame it as pretty and tempting. Then the cloud starts to be shot with a slow zoom as if the characters are being drawn to it when they look outside. Now that they’re stuck inside, the everyday world they’d taken for granted becomes alluring. It’s a reversal of their relationship which goes from desire to boredom.
Maybe if there wasn’t a worldwide pandemic right now that mirrors The Pink Cloud’s narrative, it would resonate differently. Perhaps it would have been viewed as a warning to climate change deniers, or to those taking life for granted. In it’s current context, the quarantine comparisons are hard to avoid. It’s one of the most accurate portrayals of a relationship on lockdown.
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