If you’re looking for transcendental film from Dominican Republic, the ritualized pacing of Verde carries the fire lit by Nelson Carlo De Los Santos Arias’ Cocote.

Verde is the first feature film set in Dajabon, a small region in the Northwest of Dominican Republic that borders Haiti. Like Cocote, the setting contains the streams, forests, and grassland that color the interior of the country instead of the pristine beaches and resorts you’d find in tourist brochures. It’s an open environment, a long way from sweltering urban Santo Domingo situated on the opposite side of the country. Here, the outside blends with the inside as the heat and sounds permeate through the walls and open doors of everyone’s houses. Because of Dajabon’s distance from the cities, there aren’t any signs of government of authority. Spiritual leaders and gangsters have taken their place as indigenous customs hold a similar power to the church and the gangs’ tit-for-tat retribution rules.

This has consequences for the three protagonists who’s attempted heist of a gold mine goes wrong. They don’t go to the police to hand themselves in, as there are no signs of the police here. Instead, they have to answer for their actions with the locals. They also don’t go to the church to ask for forgiveness, instead choosing to visit a shaman for a ritual to cleanse their sins. However, as their silence reveals, they already know the fate waiting for them.

Their march towards their inevitable deaths, payment for the man they killed during their attempted robbery, is reflected in the slow tempo of the film and their silence. Every shot, as common in transcendental cinema, lingers for longer than it needs to, forcing you to observe the characters for longer. With more time, Carmelo’s silence becomes more obvious and his actions appear more deliberate. He has the most screen time but does the least with it. His silence appears to honor the dead and repent for the crime he committed. His actions also appear willed by a feeling of guilt. However, he doesn’t appear to be in control, as if he has already given up his body to someone else. It gives the sense that he has already embraced his ultimate fate and is mourning for himself as well as the others.

In this way, Verde fits closest to Schrader’s meditative segment of transcendental film. It’s not simply observing the characters like a surveillance camera, and it’s not focusing solely on the look of the film. Instead Verde employs its slow tempo to hold viewers in a trance like state through the chapters of the film. We follow Carmelo’s repentant march through Dajabon and in it we are given time to reflect on our own lives as we move with him closer to our fate.

Verde is an impressive debut feature that you should look out for at a festival near you.


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Kings of Mulberry Street feels like it could have been your 9 year old self’s favorite film. A film that your parents would happily let you watch when you’ve grown out of Disney animation, or that your teachers might put on at school when it’s raining at break-time. A film that the adults would end up staying to watch it with you, because it’s a fun coming-of-age story that everyone can enjoy, set in an Indian community in South Africa.

The first minute immediately sets the tone for the rest of the film. It’s where we first meet 11 year old Ticky dancing along to a classic Bollywood action film projected on the big screen in front of him. He knows all the words and all the action routines. He wants to be the next Amitabh Bachchan, and judging by his confidence, his dreams don’t look too farfetched. The opening establishes Ticky’s charisma and energy; a playful energy and humor that carries through Kings of Mulberry Street.

In the next scene we meet his future sidekick Harold, a chubby kid spoiled by his single dad. They’re posh Indians, as demonstrated by their knitted jumpers and English accents. Harold’s dad even pop quizzes his son on his spelling on their way to their new house. They arrive in Ticky’s neighborhood and immediately try to stay away from mingling with any of the neighbors. Even though they’ve just moved to the hood, and the dad is now writing obituaries for a little local paper, they still see themselves as better then everyone else. They’re the stereotypical wannabe English upper class, complete with the stiff upper lips, that want to stay away from anyone that might disrupt their peace and quiet (see Elton’s dad in Rocketman or Stevens in Remains for the Day for two examples). However, despite Harold’s dad’s efforts to keep him from mixing with the local rabble, inevitably, Harold and Ticky become best friends.

Ticky is Harold’s antidote to his reserved ‘English’ inspired father. He helps him break from his dad’s mold to become ‘more Indian’. Ticky teaches him Indian slang, feeds him Indian food, and introduces him to his big family. Bu,t most importantly, Ticky introduces him to Bollywood film, whose heroes provide the inspiration for them to take back their bike from the local crime boss. In welcoming Harold into the community, Ticky helps tug Harold away from the bland English culture that his father lives by, and into the colorful Indian culture that helps dispel his loneliness. It also helps to break their class boundaries by connecting them through their shared cultural roots. It’s a heartwarming message at the center of a fun coming of age film.


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

Redemption starts with Bruno making his way home after being released from prison. He’s welcomed back by his loving wife and newborn, and gets the keys of his mother’s house from his aunt. It also doesn’t take long for him to find a job in a warehouse nearby. With a house, a job, and a wife and baby, Bruno has everything he needs to be happy. However, things change when the ‘bank’ demands Bruno to pay them $30,000 for a loan his dead mother took out or else they’ll take over his house.

The bank/loan shark that demands money from Bruno is the reason why Bruno regresses to his former life of crime. However, even before they ask for the money, there’s signs that Bruno hasn’t given up his former life. The first indication of this is when he returns to his dead mother’s house on his own and immediately locates his old gun and a roll of U.S. dollars. Instead of throwing the gun away, he returns it to it’s hidden spot when his wife arrives. He knows that if she sees them, she’ll tell him to get rid of them or she’ll leave.

It was also hard to ignore the amount of smoking and drinking in this film. Every other minute, Bruno pauses, lights up a cigarette, and seems to use that break to think. Maybe he’s thinking about the money he could make in the crime world, maybe he’s thinking about moving to South Africa as Mia wants, it’s not clear. What is clear however, is that he smokes a lot. It’s an addiction he hasn’t got rid of. At a stretch, his addiction to smoke and drink are two vices that reveal his weakness for good feelings, and hint that he’s not strong enough to resist the golden allure of returning to crime. Towards the end of the film, Mia even starts smoking, as if it’s a sign that she’s addicted to Bruno and can’t leave him. Like Bruno, she has her chance to leave, but she can’t break her ties to the city.

Bruno’s fate is all but confirmed in the scene when he takes on his first crime job since leaving prison. In it, the camera never moves from the front yard of Bruno’s house as he leaves with his former colleagues and steps into their car. When he is in his front yard, there’s nothing between him and the camera. But once he’s outside his yard, we see him enter his crime boss’ car from behind his yard’s wire fence. Seeing him behind fencing makes it look as if he’s just stepped back into prison. It’s a point of no return for Bruno and his chance at redemption.

However, even though we can blame Bruno for resorting to crime to pay his loans, Redemption makes sure you know that there’s a corrupt system behind his eviction. The big crime boss that Bruno works for appears in a scene paying one of the people working for the bank that demands Bruno repay his mother’s loan. Linking the crime boss to the bank lenders assimilates their actions. Both of them ruthlessly demand money from people who can’t afford them and both of them rob people without sympathy. So if the bank lenders can demand a ridiculous amount of money from Bruno that he didn’t borrow, why shouldn’t he criminally demand a ridiculous amount of money from someone else too.


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

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 some quick fire reviews from the short films featured in the Pan African Shorts Program of the 2020 Pan African Film Festival.

My Father Belize

My Father Belize (Belize)

It’s great to see films being made in Belize, and My Father Belize definitely does the Belizean tourist board proud with shots of idyllic peninsulas where the jungle meets pristine beaches. The film focuses on Sean, a born and bred in Belizean that left the country in his teens for a life in the United States. He’s back in town for the first time in three years to scatter his fathers ashes; a father that was never there for him growing up. Sean has moved on from the death of his estranged father and is now engaged to someone from the U.S. However, during his visit he discovers he conceived a son last time he was in the country and must face his own future as a father and husband.

My Father Belize works because the gossipy reveals are backed up by just enough well timed humor to keep it tongue in cheek. Every time the film introduces a cheesy twist, Sean’s cousin is on hand to say exactly what is on the audience’s mind, thereby acknowledging the exaggerated turns of the script. This balancing act cleverly draws the audience into the script, opening up a space for My Father Belize to talk to us about the ordinary topic it really wants to: fatherhood.

A Handful of Dates

A Handful of dates (Sudan)

It’s also great to see more films coming out of Sudan. A Handful of Dates is shot from the perspective of a young boy that is ashamed to learn the truth behind his grandfather’s date palm fortune. He has grown up idolizing his grandfather, but when he sees the poverty his grandfather has nonchalantly plunged his neighbor into to achieve his wealth, he’s repulsed.

A Handful of Dates is a risk-free adaptation of a short story by Tayeb Saleh that fits perfectly into 15 minutes. It efficiently builds the arcs of the two characters the young boy interacts with (his grandfather and the neighbor) with just enough visual cues to support the limited dialogue. No second is wasted in depicting the grandfather’s transformation from idol to demon and the neighbors transformation from social pariah into a humble exploited man we can sympathize with.

Dolly (U.K.)

In Dolly, a white babysitter works on her laptop whilst the young black girl in her care asks for help with her maths homework. The babysitter ignores her until she finds out she’s got the job she wanted. To celebrate, she lets the young black girl put make up on her face, not knowing that the young girl is going to paint her face black.

There are a lot of issues that Dolly touches on but doesn’t explore, such as white privilege, racial privilege, black girls in STEM, discrimination in education, blackness, lack of black representation, being black in a white world and more. However, instead of exploring any of these issues that the film half references, it chooses to ultimately go for a punch-line ending of a white girl being found with blackface on. As a result, Dolly is left without much substance to add to a pretty bland performance from the white babysitter.

Songs for my Right Side

Songs for my right side (U.S.A.)

Rodger Smith is in pain. Every night he writhes alone in his bed because of a searing pain that has taken over the right side of his body. It might be the after effects of a bad break up, or the fate of two young black people recently murdered in cold blood. The only thing that soothes the pain is music.

Songs For My Right Side deserves a lot of credit for trying to do something different. Whilst the three short films above stick to familiar storytelling styles, Songs for My Right Side blends music, mystery, and Rodger’s thoughts together to create an almost psychedelic viewing experience. It’s as if you’ve been plunged into another person’s mind and forced to follow their roving stream-of-consciousness. There’s no room to step away from it and get a complete picture of what is happening, but that is kind of the point. You’re stuck with an untrustworthy, apparently crazy narrator, and you have to try and decipher what is true or not. Whilst the film does meander a lot, rendering it pretty confusing to follow, the experience is worth the ride.


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