PAFF Best Films - FilmRoot

A Guide to the 2020 Pan African Film Festival (PAFF)

As the film industry recovered from the surprises from the Academy Awards and started preparing trips to the European film market in Berlin, I took some time out to cover the 28th edition of the Pan African Film Festival (PAFF). Taking place in Black History Month, PAFF is the largest black film festival in the United States. It’s also one of the largest film festivals in Los Angeles, and it’s situated just under 7 miles south of Hollywood in Baldwin Hills. If you’re looking for a wide range of black films from around the world, this is the festival you need to attend.

Whilst it doesn’t have the star status of Cannes, Venice, or Toronto, the Pan African Film Festival did have an incredibly wide range of African and Afro-Latin films in its 225 film schedule. This is exactly why PAFF had been on my calendar for the last few months. Where else can you see films from so many African and Caribbean countries without hopping on a plane?

Anyway, let’s get into it. You’ve probably read some of the reviews posted on the PAFF page, but what was the festival actually like?

The Audiences

Whilst the audience at SBIFF was old and white, I didn’t notice more than a handful of old white viewers throughout the entire 12 day schedule at PAFF. The audience at PAFF was mostly Black. I guess this isn’t surprising given that this is the largest Black film festival in the United States happening in one of the oldest Black communities in Los Angeles. However, it was disappointing to see a lack of support for Black films from the rest of Los Angeles. Especially as these films are almost always overlooked in favor of big Hollywood releases and European art-house films every year.

It was also nice not being the youngest person in the audience for every screening. The majority of the audience was middle aged, but there were a few young faces in almost all of the screenings; either young kids brought by their parents or college students. That being said, the percentage of viewers under 25 was much lower than what I’ve seen at the BFI London Film Festival. To bring it up again, the BFI’s program for offering discounted tickets to anyone under 25 just before the screenings start, would be a great way to fill empty seats whilst boosting a younger audience.

The City

The Pan African Film Festival takes place in Los Angeles, but, if you’ve visited Los Angeles before, you’ll know that it’s a place made up of many small cities. Instead of spreading out from a center like London, Berlin, and Toronto (other big cities with big film festivals) Los Angeles doesn’t have a definitive center. As a result, there isn’t a focus to the city or a center that you can walk from sight to sight on a sightseeing tour. So whilst the Pan African Film Festival takes place in Los Angeles, it’s more helpful to say that it takes place in Baldwin Hills, a neighborhood in South Los Angeles.

Specifically, PAFF takes place at the Cinemark by the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Mall. It’s a perfect location for a film festival in Los Angeles because: there’s a lot of free parking, there’s a lot of cheap food options in the mall food court, and it’s easy to drive to (yes Los Angeles is a car city). You can also get there on public transport by taking the train to the Expo/Crenshaw metro stop and walking south along Crenshaw. It’s only a 15 minute walk. Although as mentioned, this is Los Angeles, so you’ll probably be the only person walking.

One of the best things about the mall, besides the cheap food options, is the art festival that takes place as part of the film festival. It features a lot of stalls selling African art, clothes, and beauty products. Perfect if you’re looking for a souvenir.

The Experience

Unlike the mess of lines that plague other film festivals, PAFF was pretty well managed. This was probably because it took place in one of Cinemark’s most popular theaters in the country. It has the capacity to accommodate over 3,000 people in it’s 16-18 screens (where all the screenings took place). Plus, buying tickets was a breeze thanks to the ticket selling screens and many box office assistants. PAFF was convenient and stress free; buying tickets, queuing, and getting to your screening was easy.

The proportion of talent attendance was also probably higher than any other festival I’ve attended. Approximately 50% of the screenings were complemented by Q&A’s featuring key talent from the films. This was an even more impressive figure given that most of these artists had traveled from Africa with their first U.S. visas.

The Films

Last, but not least, how were the movies?

Firstly, the selection at PAFF was impressively diverse even though if focused solely on black films. It featured 225 films from 52 countries in 26 languages. To put that into perspective, the Santa Barbara International Film Festival had films from 50 countries, 2 countries behind PAFF. That being said, the quality of the films was pretty erratic. There were a handful of gems from first time filmmakers (see below) which was a welcome surprise, but also a handful of films that appeared to still be in the developmental stage or stuck in clichés.

The feature Films

As mentioned, the feature film selection at PAFF was very hit or miss, which I guess is to be expected from countries without established film industries. I was lucky enough to see 14 feature films during my time at the festival. Here’s how they stacked up. Click the links to read the full reviews.

The Mercy of the Jungle
Tenere
Right Near the Beach
Verde
Black Mexicans
Kings of Mulberry Street
Redemption
Granma Nineteen and the Soviet’s Secret
Bigman Wahala
Desrances
Subira
Gonarezhou: The Movie
Kijiji Changu
Ekoua

PAFF’s Best: 1

With a great look, an easy to follow but intelligent story, and two great characters, The Mercy of the Jungle was the best film I saw at PAFF. It was a faultless all rounder that I hope gets a U.S. release in the not too distant future.

The Runner Up: 2

In second place was Tenere a feature documentary from a first time filmmaker. The incredible footage of the migrant journey across the desert on a Mad Max-esque truck is what makes this documentary so awesome.

The Art-House Gems: 3-5

Following up the top two, Right Near the Beach, Verde, and Black Mexicans were three great art-house films that should be welcome at film festivals worldwide. I’m particularly excited to see what the debut filmmakers behind the first two do next.

Popular Films Done Well: 6-10

Kings of Mulberry Street and Granma Nineteen and the Soviet’s Secret were two entertaining coming of age stories that all audiences should be able to appreciate. Redemption and Desrances were two thrillers set in bad times – the former an ex-con struggling with a corrupt system and the latter set in a post-revolution post-apocalyptic Cote d’Ivoire. Lastly, Bigman Wahala was the best mainstream comedy that I saw at PAFF, sparked by the rapport between the two main characters.

The Not So Good: 11-14

Subira was the best of the rest, but it was let down by an un-empowering and cheesy story-line. Gonarezhou: The Movie, Ekoua, and Kijiji Changu all suffered from a lack of production quality and the lack of a well thought out script.

The Short Films

In contrast to the feature films at PAFF, the short films from the Pan African and Films in Paradise short series were consistently good. Here’s our rankings for what we saw:

Conclusion

If you live in Los Angeles, you need to add PAFF to your film festival calendar. It’s schedule of African and Black film is unparalleled in the United States. The programmers also obviously made an effort to seek out films from debut filmmakers. Their risks paid off, as there were a bunch of gems that I wouldn’t have had the chance to see otherwise. So put in some effort and come to PAFF in 2021.

The Mercy of the Jungle – Pan African Film Festival 2020

The Mercy of the Jungle starts with the same scene it ends with. In it, an armed Sergeant Xavier chases a fleeing rebel across an open field. He appears weary of the endless war but mechanically carries out his duty. Book-ending the film with this same chase scene of Sergeant Xavier in a weary pursuit traps him within the conflict. Every scene he appears in as a Sergeant ready for war. He rarely discloses anything about his dreams or personal life. The war in the heart of the jungle covering Rwanda, Uganda, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo has consumed him, just as the soldiers in Francis Ford Copolla’s Apocalypse Now are gradually consumed by their war. Whilst he can switch uniforms and play both sides of the war, the cyclical nature of the film indicates he can never escape the conflict or the jungle it takes place in.

The suffocating jungle provides the first test for a lost Sergeant Xavier and Private Faustin, as they try to find their troop. It’s overgrown, making it hard for them to see beyond a few meters. Even in the clearings the mist prevents them from seeing much further. Plus there’s the hot humidity that slowly saps the precious moisture from Xavier and Faustin as they try to find the way; a death curse as there are no signs of fresh water. The jungle is their inescapable prison.

The sounds of the fauna at night tell Xavier and Faustin that they’re not welcome in the jungle. We never see what makes the noises, which helps to make us more paranoid of what could be out there. It’s not clear if it’s an animal stalking them, or just animals passing by. Whatever it is, the fear of the unknown only further demonstrates their complete loss of control in the jungle and slow descent into madness. The diegetic sounds are supported by a loud, deep, ominous soundtrack that builds the feeling of hopelessness. The jungle is consuming them.

The inescapable, consuming jungle goes hand in hand with the inescapable, consuming war. Just as Sergeant Xavier is stuck in the jungle surrounded by unknown, unwelcoming sounds, he’s stuck in the war surrounded by unknown, unwelcoming armed groups. The war is faceless. The only thing that separates Sergeant Xavier from the different armies and rebel groups he encounters is his uniform. Otherwise, they speak the same language and look the same. So, to avoid death, Xavier and Faustin carry multiple uniforms so they can change clothes to blend into the areas they trespass. They even make friends with soldiers and communities they originally fought against. However, although they can fluidly switch sides, Sergeant Xavier can never escape the war. The one time he tries to disguise himself as a civilian, he’s attacked because it’s obvious from his ‘Muhammad Ali’ physique that he’s a soldier. Whilst he can switch military uniforms, he can never return to being a regular civilian. He’s condemned to a life of war.

The Mercy of the Jungle depicts the inescapable cycle of war around the Virunga National Park in the heart of Africa. The suffocating, disorientating jungle is reminiscent of the jungles depicted in Apocalypse Now and Aguirre, whilst the inescapable war is reminiscent of those depicted in War Witch and Beasts of No Nation. The Mercy of the Jungle stands up to all four of these films as one of the best jungle war films there is.

Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews and short films from the Pan African Film Festival 2020.

Tenere – Pan African Film Festival 2020

Tenere documents the incredible real life Mad Max journey of Nigerien people crossing the Sahara on customized trucks in search of an escape from their poverty. It’s an almost unbelievable journey, and although more people try to cross the desert than the Atlantic to get to Europe, it surprisingly rarely makes the news.

Tenere itself is an observational documentary that follows Bachir on his journey from Agadez to Dirkou in search of work. Bachir is one of the most experienced members of the group, having already made the journey across the Sahara a few times in order to provide for his family. This time, instead of going to Libya, which is no longer a land of opportunity because of the raging civil war, Bachir plans to stop and find work in Dirkou, 584km away from Agadez in the northeastern corner of Niger. However, what might be a days journey by car on normal roads is a perilous 5 day trek across the sands of the Sahara in blistering 45 degree heat (that’s over 110 degrees Fahrenheit). In this part of the world, roads don’t exist, just a lot of sand.

Tenere takes off cinematically when the journey leaves Agadez. There’s a point, roughly 10-15 minutes into their journey that the craziness of it hit me. Agadez is the 5th largest city in Niger, albeit a small one when compared to cities around the world with just over 100,000 inhabitants. It doesn’t look like a city teeming with opportunity when we see it on camera. The dust roads, mud houses, and lack of greenery indicate that human life here isn’t sustainable. However, compared to the desert the migrants travel through, Agadez is an oasis of life. After 10-15 minutes of traveling through the desert, the director starts using drone shots to shoot the truck loaded with goats, people, wares, and water, allowing us to see just how perilous the journey is. We can see that their truck is the only sign of life for miles, an island in a landscape that is purely sand and hot air. They’re truck is the desert equivalent of the Senegalese pirogues aimed towards Europe, completely isolated and just a few punctures away from certain death.

You might be wondering: “well, these people were never going to die because the filmmaker and his crew were there just in case something went wrong”. However, you might not know that this film was all shot by one Turkish man, Hasan Söylemez, with just a few cameras and a convoy of hired soldiers to protect them from desert bandits. There’s not much a camera and soldiers can do to help if your car breaks down when you’re two days drive from civilization and surrounded by sand and a 45 degree heat. It’s exactly at the halfway point of their journey that one man emerges inexplicably from the desert. He has just walked 17km to find help because his truck has broken down whilst carrying 20-25 migrants on its back. They’re all stuck by the car with their water supplies running out. If he didn’t find anyone willing to help, this truck load of people would succumb to the desert, like the many other people buried under car tire tombstones. It’s an unforgiving journey, and death always feels precariously close because of a lack of visible support. There are no signs of backup help, because there isn’t any.

Tenere is almost unbelievable. These guys and their custom stacked truck would fit perfectly into an apocalyptic Mad Max film. But the handheld camera and drone shots make it almost feel like we’re there with them, minus the heat and glaring sun. It’s a brilliant observational documentary that exposes another migration route that rarely makes the news. I watched this film whilst I was halfway through reading ‘The Devil’s Highway’, an account of the Yuma 14 who died crossing the Arizona desert, which made this film even more pertinent. If you’re sitting comfortably in your home in Europe or the U.S. thinking that you deserved the luck to be born there, watch this film and see exactly how people are risking their lives to try and reverse their own fortunes.

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

Right Near the Beach – Pan African Film Festival 2020

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.

Black Mexicans – Pan African Film Festival 2020

In Black Mexicans, a fisherman splits his time between two women: his wife, Juana, and his lover Magdalena.

Neri, the fisherman, is an old Don Juan. He’s known in the community for his promiscuity, which doesn’t end with Juana and Magdalena. However, the film focuses on his two lovers and their two daughters of a similar age. Whilst Nero’s two families share similarities, they have different problems. Juana has Neri, but she’s dying from a terminal illness, whilst Magdalena lives waiting on Neri and the relationship with his wife to end. Magdalena isn’t hoping for Juana to die – she regularly donates blood and even offers her donating her liver to help her – but she does want clarity from her relationship with Neri so she can move on with her life.

The other difference between the two families is their wealth. Whilst neither family is wealthy, Magdalena at least has her health to continue earning money through her restaurant. She’s able to buy a new fridge, and isn’t too worried about Neri not being able to catch any fish. Her ability to earn money, also gives her daughter the freedom to do what she wants as she doesn’t have to help support the family. In contrast, Juana is too poorly to earn, and Neri can’t support them, so her daughter has to find work to keep them afloat. Juana’s daughter therefore doesn’t have the same freedoms as her step sister and resents her absent father more for it.

Black Mexicans is set along the picturesque Oaxaca coast within the Afro-Mexican community in Costa Chica. The remote and empty setting reflects the Afro-Mexican experience in Mexico. Just like Afro-Mexicans in Mexico, the setting is hidden away from the rest of Mexico. No one makes the effort to take the boat trip there, except for the rare pair of backpackers. There’s also no sign of any non-black Mexicans here, just as the Afro-Mexicans here are hidden away from the rest of Mexico. The empty beach chairs and beach restaurants show that people just don’t care about the Afro-Mexican community. It’s isolated enough to pretend it doesn’t exist and empty enough that it doesn’t attract any attention.

It’s no surprise then that the Juana’s daughters efforts to make a life for herself appear hopeless. Her father will always be promiscuous and forget about her, her mother is terminally ill, she’s in inescapable debt, and there’s no support from the government (as indicated when a highway policeman says she’s not Mexican on a rare trip outside the community). Without her mother she’s alone. Her hopelessness is expressed through her stoic expressions. She never smiles or frowns, and never appears disappointed or angry. She’s aware of the hopelessness of her situation and her inevitable prostitution to pay off her debts.

Black Mexicans is the first feature film that tries to depict the Afro-Mexican experience with an all Afro-Mexican cast. It does have its problems: some Afro-Mexicans have called out the stereotypical depictions and the ignorantly prejudiced comments of the director. However, separating the director from the film, Black Mexicans deserves credit for depicting a community invisible to the rest of Mexico. Well constructed images and storyline might remind you of Costa Rica’s Land of Ashes or Eve’s Bayou. It’s use of setting and the stoic character of Juana’s daughter highlight the lack of opportunity and support for the black community in Mexico and their exclusion from their Mexican identity.