A Taste of Our Land is the first narrative feature I’ve seen that speaks to the rising Chinese influence in African countries. It’s inspired by the director’s experience working in a Chinese mine in Rwanda, where he saw a colleague beaten so badly he was hospitalized. His crime? To ask for his pay.

A Taste of Our Land features a similarly brutal Chinese-run mine in Uganda. It’s operated by a Chinese convict named Cheng that brutally beats his employees for any acts of dissent. He works for a Chinese company that don’t appear in the film. We only hear them on the other end of Cheng’s phone, emphasizing their disregard for Africa and it’s people. They’re extracting Africa’s wealth from abroad with the help of a criminal. It paints a surprisingly blunt picture of the exploitative motivations of China in Africa

The victim of this film is an older African man called Yohani who struggles to provide for his pregnant wife. He tries to get compensation for the Chinese mine which was built on his land without permission. However, because the local authorities he appeals to have already been paid off, there’s nothing he can do. The African authorities have sold him out for temporary wealth.

When Yohani discovers a nugget of gold on his land, he becomes an obvious allegory of the world’s exploitation of Africa. Three protagonists are after his new found wealth, and each one of them representatives a different world power.

  1. The first is the China, represented in the Chinese mine built on Yohani’s land without his permission. It reaps the fruit of the land without sharing it with the African people. They’re the new colonizers.
  2. The second is Britain, represented in a British immigrant named Donald that walks around wearing a colonial era helmet. The British used to hold power over Africa, but their power has waned in the last 50 years or so, represented by Donald’s asthma inhaler. Donald can’t even tell China what to do, as shown by his inability to convince Cheng to look for gold. However, his colonial era hat symbolizes that Britain still tries to cling onto its’ former power and still exploits the continent.
  3. The third is the Catholic church, represented in a European priest that Yohani looks to for protection. Instead of sheltering Yohani, the priest tries to steal his gold; they’re just another institution that exploits the African people.

Credit is due to the filmmakers for avoiding the conventional African film tropes of war, HIV, and witchcraft to focus on the growing Chinese influence in Africa. It’s rare to see an African film implicating other national powers and religious institutions so blatantly in its demise. However, A Taste of Our Land’s bad acting makes the allegories a bit too obvious. It highlights the heavy handedness of the script and lack of production quality of the film (it’s made on a spartan $12,000 budget). As a result, what could be a subtle implication of religious and national powers in Africa’s exploitation comparable to Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Leviathan, ends up feeling a bit stereotypically comical.


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In Coming from Insanity a poor Togolese house boy becomes a rich counterfeiter in Nigeria. It’s a well-made rags to riches heist thriller that will keep you engaged throughout.

The film starts with Kossi being trafficked across the Nigerian border from Togo in the 1990’s. He’s only 12 when he arrives, but he’s already forced to work as a house boy for an upper-middle class family living in Lagos. Fast forward to the present day and Kossi is still stuck in the same position; slaving away for the well-off family he grew up working for. They don’t care about his dreams, and without an education he’s unlikely to reach them. As far as they’re aware, he’ll always be beneath them.

Fed up with being downtrodden, Kossi resorts to crime. He uses his inventiveness to start counterfeiting dollars and soon becomes the best counterfeiter in Lagos. He slowly scales up his operations like Breaking Bad, employing a cast of people like him to help run his business. However, with a larger operation Kossi picks up the unwanted attention of a determined police agent, sparking a Catch Me If You Can style chase which thrillingly carries this film to the end.

If anything, Coming from Insanity is a testament the production quality of Nollywood. Compared to many of the lower budget productions that featured at the Pan African Film Festival, Coming from Insanity feels like a tent-pole Hollywood film. It stands out because of the following:

  1. It features a cast of established names that have all gained acting experience from previous Nollywood productions instead of an amateur cast.
  2. It has a substantial production budget allowing the crew to effectively film a diverse range of challenging scenes taking place in a very busy city (Lagos), as well as at sea and on the road.
  3. As well as a lot of time spent in post-production that:
    • Evened out the sound levels throughout the film.
    • Matched the images on screen to a soundtrack with the same tone.
    • Edited the shots together to efficiently tell a story without losing the attention of the viewer.

These are all things that we take for granted when watching films from countries with established film industries, such as the U.S, India, and Nigeria. They have the backing of an industry with the capabilities and experience needed for film-makers to make a great looking film, something that other African countries simply don’t have. That’s why Coming from Insanity feels so much more polished than films like Gonarezhou: The Movie and My Village. It has the backing of an industry with the capabilities and experience to make a great film.

That being said, industry backing isn’t everything, as we’ve seen from a number of big budget Hollywood flops in the last few years. Luckily, Coming from Insanity isn’t one of those, it’s polished look only helps it’s tight script to succeed.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews from PAFF 2020.

Here’s another round of quick fire reviews from the short films featured in the Films in Paradise segment of PAFF 2020. Unfortunately one of the films in the segment, After Mas, had an issue with the audio so it won’t be reviewed here.

The Deliverer

The deliverer (Trinidad & Tobago)

Joseph is a fisherman on a hunger strike. He’s leading a protest against the construction of an oil refinery which threatens to displace his community and livelihood. However, things change when Joseph rescues a wounded drug runner that offers him an opportunity to make enough money to save his home and town. All he has to do is traffic some drugs across from Venezuela.

The Deliverer feels more like a long trailer than a short film. Everything in it sets the film up for the dangerous journey trafficking drugs to and from Venezuela. However, as soon as the set up finishes with Joseph getting on his boat, the film ends. It’s simply a proof of concept short film that the filmmakers have made to try and raise enough funds for a feature film. I guess filmmakers have to do what they got to do to make a feature. Fortunately, this approach is working as The Deliverer is currently being developed into a feature length film. I hope I get a chance to see it.

She Paradise

She Paradise (Trinidad & Tobago)

A teenage girl struggles to fit into a crew of Soca backup dancers in She Paradise. Her shy, quiet personality doesn’t seem to fit the confident aura of the dance team, but, despite this, she keeps trying to break free of her insecurities. With the help of one of the older members of the dance team that she warms to, she ends up with her first chance on stage. Can she make the most of the limelight?

She Paradise was a refreshing change from the mostly male fronted short films I saw in the two short film segments I saw at PAFF. At its center is a heartwarming coming-of-age relationship between a young shy teenage girl and a confident and charismatic dancer that takes her under her wing. The older dancer becomes like a sister to the younger girl, showing her how to embrace her sexuality and act confidentially. These are two characteristics she needs to be a successful soca dancer, but their relationship feels deeper than that. It feels like the older dancer is helping guide the younger girl into adulthood, becoming the role model that the young girl doesn’t appear to have. Helping her to add color to her life (lipstick and make up), feel the music and express herself through dance gives her a foundation to be happy now and in the future. It’s a beautiful win for positivity.

Currently streaming on Vimeo

Flight

Flight (Jamaica)

Kemar dreams of flying to the moon. He sneaks up onto the roof at night to look at the starry night sky and builds a rocket ship with his best friend. However, when his best friend ‘grows up’ to work for a local gang, Kemar loses the only person that believed with him.

Flight is one of those films that is impossible to hate. The enthusiasm of the young kid and his dreams of becoming an astronaut are contagious. We can see what he imagines with the help of his friend and a few props. However, Flight melts your heart when you find out the reason why he wants to go to the moon; to get closer to his mother. It’s enough to get his dad to join him in building a spaceship to help his imagination get there. A beautifully heartwarming story about a father and son finally connecting and transcending their loneliness through their mutual love for their lost wife/mother.

La Capa Azul

The blue cape (Puerto Rico)

Two months after Hurricane Maria devastated Puerto Rico, the power remains out and buildings continue to collapse. Junior, a ten year old boy, is summoned by his mother to search for medicine for his dying grandfather. He puts on a blue cape and sets off on his quest to save his grandfather.

The Blue Cape is just 6 minutes long but it packs a punch. Every shot is immaculate, and the acting is all on point. My personal highlights were the shots of Junior roaming down to the local town. He hops around loose bricks and walks along planks of wood strewn across the road. From his point of view, it looks like a normal run down town, but then the camera zooms out to reveal the bricks and planks are from half collapsed buildings that are teetering over deep valleys. It’s function is to uncover the colossal damage from the Hurricane that the U.S. media has overlooked. There’s an obvious lack of U.S. support months after the disaster (there’s no sign of repair and still damage everywhere). It directly implicates the U.S. as the ultimate decider of Junior’s grandad’s fate. Powerful and beautiful. Hope to see more from this director.


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Kijiji Changu focuses on the relationship between two very different best friends Makame and Saidi. Saidi is a young playboy. He doesn’t have a steady job but is quick to give away what he has to get any of the local women in his bed. In contrast, Makame has already grown up. He fishes to earn money for his family and is already married and trying to conceive a child. The only strife in his life is that his mum and wife Maryam don’t get along, because his wife hasn’t given her a grandchild. However, when Maryam sleeps with Makame’s best friend Saidi in a desperate attempt to conceive, she becomes pregnant. But, whilst it saves her marriage and pleases her mother in law, it proves to have disastrous consequences.

From the sound of it, Kijiji Changu should have a lot of drama. There’s adultery, promiscuity, and rivalries between a wife and her mother in law and two best friends. However, Kijiji Changu fails to translate any of this drama to the screen due to a lack of narrative focus and a repetitive soundtrack.

Firstly, the story is unfocused. The film begins by setting up the brotherly relationship between Makame and Saidi. In some scenes they’re best friends and others worst enemies, but it kind of makes sense, as after all, they are very different characters. The plot slowly moves on with Makame and Saidi being friends, then not talking, friends, then not talking, even after Saidi sleeps with Maryam. The adulterous act is a prime opportunity to spark some fire into their love triangle relationship, but instead of developing the drama, the film loses focus. Instead of wondering how his wife had got pregnant when he hasn’t been with her in the whole film, Makame blindly celebrates the news that Maryam is pregnant. The film then fades out and returns to the village 9 months later in which the focus of the film switches to a story about HIV. In doing so, the character rivalries the initial hour built up are pushed to the side.

Secondly, the repetitive soundtrack messes with the emotional tone of the film by playing the same song to very different visual scenes. For example, the same song is played when Saidi seduces a woman as when the mother in law scratches her tongue at Maryam, and when one man enters the hospital. Each of these three scenes should elicit a different emotional response from the audience, but because the same musical piece backs each of them, the tone is muted. Soundtracks usually guide our emotional response by matching the same music to scenes which share similar emotions visually. However, in this case, the soundtrack doesn’t always match the visual emotions which confuses how we are meant to perceive the film.


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In Right Near the Beach, Jeffrey Jacobs, Jamaica’s world record breaking sprinter is beaten to death near his home. His murder sparks a frenzy of media coverage that digs into his friendship with a gay man. Jeffrey’s single father becomes a social pariah because of the reaction to his son’s death, living alone in the hills. It’s only when his youngest son returns that he is given a chance to transcend his isolation and grief.

Right Near the Beach tells its story effectively through the images and sounds it presents. Firstly, the film develops Terrence Malick’s visual style to create a more visceral feeling. Right Near the Beach still has the trademark wandering camera and meditative shots familiar to Malick’s films, but adds a varying shot length to better convey the varying emotions Jeffrey’s dad feels.

For most of the film, the average spot length feels longer than your typical Hollywood film. This gives the audience more time to watch the characters as they wander in rural Jamaica alone, allowing us to feel their search for inner peace. However, for a few key scenes, the emotional toll of the media and neighborhood gossip is too much for them and they release their frustration in sin scenes with frantically fast cutting. The quick shots that rapidly cut around Jeffrey’s dad when he starts axing a tree root creates an urgent feeling of blind rage that contrasts with the otherwise relaxed feelings generated by the longer shots. It’s one example of how the filmmakers brilliantly use shot lengths to change the feelings of each scene.

Secondly, the sound of Right Near the Beach provides the foundation for the visual experimentation. In the first half of the film, the soundtrack is dominated by a constant stream of radio show interviews with people discussing Jeffrey Jacobs’ homosexuality. The real homophobia you hear on air (these interviews were conducted with real Jamaicans) penetrates the silence of the rural area Jeffrey’s father lives. What he hears forces him deeper into isolation just to try and silence the country’s prejudice. This changes in the second half of the film, when the prejudiced voices that plague him start to ease after his youngest son’s arrival. They’re replaced by more natural sounds from the rural environment they live in, marking his successful coming to terms with his eldest son’s death. It’s as if he’s managed to meditate away the hateful media and replace it with a calm peace of mind. Just as the visceral visual style builds emotions, the sounds we hear guide us through Jeffrey’s dad’s grief.

To take the film full circle, the filmmakers end the film with the reunion of the dad and his youngest son. It’s a touching end to an emotional film that shows they have both transcended the deaths of their brother/son and mother/wife.

Right Near the Beach manages to accomplish a lot. Firstly, the editing and cinematography work incredibly well with the soundscape to depict the character’s raw emotion and path to overcoming their grief. Secondly, the full circle script gives the film a spiritual completeness that many films fail to achieve. But, that’s not all. Right Near the Beach also touches on the prejudice in Jamaica and how the country is largely overlooked internationally except for beaches and running (hence the ironic title). I’m excited to see more from these filmmakers.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews from PAFF 2020.